Ronald the Great
by Aelfswythe
Summary: Ron's finally had it. Either he gets out of Harry's shadow or he's going to do something drastic. Ron and a very ominously mysterious miracle... Chapter Installments. FINISHED! Read & Review!
1. Countdown to Ronald Meltdown

Hey, everyone! While I have been helping out SweetSpirit13 with one of her HP stories, this is my very own FIRST Harry Potter Fanfic! *rubs hands together and cackles with glee* I would LOOOOVE love love love reviews, whatever kind they are! So, sit back and enjoy! This will be installed in chapters because I'm mean and want to drag out the suspense! Mwahahahahahahahaaaaa!!!! P.S. I do not own anything pertaining to Harry Potter by J. K. Rowling Cherrio chaps!  
  
It was another new year at Hogwarts. Ron sat slumped in his seat on the Hogwarts Express watching his friends. Hermione was laughing about something Harry had said, who was also being doted on by his sister – disgusting. Not only that, but Pavarti and Lavender were in the car giggling and throwing themselves at Harry. Ron crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
They were in their sixth year. Harry had grown tall and straight, his black hair was as scraggly as ever and his big green eyes with long black eyelashes were irresistible to girls. To top it off he had real facial hair growing on his cheeks and chin. REAL FACIAL HAIR! To make it that much worse, Harry hadn't even attempted to shave it off and girls were going batty!  
  
Ron slumped lower. Sure, he'd grown tall, like a weed, but his arms were gangly, his red hair was hopeless, whatever style it was in, his dull blue eyes were hardly romantic, and he just couldn't pull off the charm. He somehow always said the wrong thing. Lavender just then squealed with laughter and threw her arm around Harry's shoulder who was grinning ridiculously. Ron thought he'd puke.  
  
"I'll be right back," he mumbled and pushed past the lot.  
  
"Ron, where you going?" Harry called after him. Ron ignored him and walked down the corridor of the rocking train car. He couldn't wait for this trip to end and he could get into his old familiar bed at Hogwarts, shut the drapes and ignore the whole miserable world. Ron opened the door between the cars and breathed the cool rushing air. Just as he was beginning to cool off an oily voice floated over to his ears.  
  
"Go ahead, Weasley. Throw yourself off and end your miserable existence. It would be one less mouth for your father to feed. Maybe your sister would be able to get a new pair of shoes." Ron stiffened and slammed the door shut. Wheeling around he confronted Draco Malfoy.  
  
"Shut it, Malfoy, before I tear your head off," he spat through clenched teeth. Draco laughed and shook his head.  
  
"Just the sort of reaction I'd expect out of you, you mud-blood lover. Did you get made prefect again? We know how much that helped your reputation last time." Draco himself was flashing a gold "P" badge on his chest. Ron clenched his fists. Sure, he'd been made prefect again, but according to rumor, just barely. Harry had been a close second for the job. This, however, was not a time to be provoking him on any level.  
  
Ron was saved from assaulting the smirking Draco by Lavender and Pavarti leaving the coach. Ron brushed past Draco and the girls and stomped into the coach. He slammed the door and plopped back into his seat.  
  
"Ron, what's the matter?" Hermione sat next to him and Ginny smiled at her brother. Harry sat across from Ron and lightly kicked his knee.  
  
"What's the matter, mate?" Ron ignored everyone and looked out at the darkening landscape. Ginny spoke up.  
  
"I heard Draco's voice outside." Hermione frowned.  
  
"Did he bother you?"  
  
"Hey, I'll go out there and show that white-faced, blue-blooded -" Harry volunteered shaking his fist.  
  
"No!" Ron burst out, startling everyone. "Just come off it, all right? I can handle myself, and I don't need your help. Just leave me alone!" His friends' mouths hung open. They left him alone quick enough. Even Hermione could tell that something was bothering Ron and he wasn't ready to talk about it.  
  
They eventually changed into their robes and arrived at the Hogsmede station. Ron was silent and brooding in the coach all the way up to the castle and his friends, while they didn't completely ignore him, steered pretty much clear of him. Ron couldn't help but stare at Harry most of the time. He was so suave, confident, and masculine. Ron felt like he could choke him, which made him even more depressed. This was Harry! His best friend from the beginning! How could he feel that way toward him?  
  
The night was clear and the ceiling of the great hall sparkled with stars. Ron didn't say anything to the others during the sorting of the first years. However, he did perk up a bit when a new 6th year transfer student was sorted. She was meek and pretty, with big brown eyes, golden brown hair, and freckles. He managed a smile at her when she was sorted into Gryffindor and sat down at their table. She smiled back, blushing a little and Ron's heart soared. It was then that he turned to grin at Harry to find HE was smiling as well! Ron's stomach fell. She hadn't been smiling at him. She'd been smiling at Harry all along!  
  
Dinner couldn't have come fast enough. Everyone's appetite was monstrous! Everyone, that is, except for Ron. He took a few bites then stood up.  
  
"I'm going up to bed. See you around," he announced to no one in particular. Ron drifted upstairs, his mind swarmed by his jealousy and his anger. Right now the whole world might as well be against him. He didn't care about anything anymore. He didn't even care about being a prefect. Nothing mattered at all. He stopped abruptly in front of the painting of the Fat Lady, his stomach dropping. Something had just occurred to him.  
  
Quidditch. Quidditch mattered very much to him. He'd been practicing over the summer. Even Fred and George had spent extra time away from their business to get him into top form. It hadn't gone nearly as well as they'd liked, and now Ron was going to have to face his team... face Harry the brilliant seeker, face Draco Malfoy and his sniveling cronies, and the whole school! Ron gasped. What if he wasn't even on the team this year?? He sank down onto the stone floor.  
  
"Well, are you going to be coming in or not?" The Fat Lady was gazing down at him incredulously. Ron dragged himself up.  
  
"Pickle Juice Lollipops," he mumbled. The painting swung open and he stumbled in and up to his bedroom. His trunk already placed neatly at the end of his bed, Ron flopped down onto the fluffy comforter, burying his face in the feather pillow. He felt a sudden longing for his pet rat Scabbers, but alas, even he had left him! Ron willed himself not to cry and buried his face deeper into his pillow. What was he going to do? His life was awful and there was nothing he could do to change it. Just as he was thinking he couldn't go on any longer there was a knock at his door.  
  
"You there, Ron?" a timid voice sounded from his doorway.  
  
He lifted his head just enough to be able to yell, "Go away!"  
  
"Oh, stop it, for goodness sakes! And Mum says you're supposed to be my example." Ginny walked into the room and sat at the end of the bed.  
  
Ron sat up, rubbing his cheeks and faced his sister. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Harry says he's worried about you. He thinks you're mad at him." Ron scowled.  
  
"And he couldn't come talk to me himself?! Some friend!" Ginny sighed.  
  
"Ron, he probably knew you'd tear his head off. And frankly, I'm probably the only one you don't scare. So, tell me what the matter is."  
  
"I'm not pouring out my soul to a GIRL," he grumbled stubbornly. Ginny glared at him.  
  
"I'm only your sister, Ronald. I know how you think, and I don't want to have to put up with you and your stupid temper this whole year-"  
  
"So don't!" he interrupted her with a yell. She ignored him and continued.  
  
"Either tell me what the problem is, or I'm going to owl Mum that you're unfit for school work and she'll make you come home!"  
  
"GOOD! GOOD! I HATE THIS PLACE! I HATE MY LIFE, I HATE GIRLS, AND I HATE HARRY! So, please, TELL Mum, why don't you! Put me out of my misery!" He breathed heavily, his face red. Ginny's eyes were wide with shock.  
  
"Oh, Ron," she breathed. "You don't mean that do you?"  
  
"Of course, I mean it. Now just leave me alone already." Ginny, however, did not leave, but sat thinking for a moment.  
  
"I know what this is about, Ron. You're jealous of Harry. I don't blame you. He's tall, and handsome, and he's been shaving all summer -"  
  
"Oh, rub it in, why don't you? And he has NOT been shaving. Just look at him! He's grown all that just to get the girls! It makes me sick!"  
  
"See, you are jealous! Ron, all that doesn't matter. Sure, he's good at Quidditch. Sure, he gets a lot of attention from girls. But, he's not a prefect, and he doesn't have your sense of humor. In fact I'd say he's TOO serious half the time. Not only that, I've been watching him, and he is getting a little carried away with his facial hair. I think it's going to his head." Ron sat and digested this. He knew his sister wouldn't lie just to make him feel better. He rubbed his fist across his nose.  
  
"I don't think I can take it anymore. I'm tired of being in his shadow. I can't compete with him." He slumped his shoulders in defeat. Ginny scooted over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.  
  
"Then don't. Just be yourself Ron. You'd be surprised how many people like you."  
  
"Yeah, like who?" he frowned doubtfully.  
  
"Well, you know that girl who's the new transfer student? She asked me about you. She said you have a nice smile." The corner of Ron's mouth twitched.  
  
"You mean, she really was smiling at me? I thought it had been Harry." Ginny smiled.  
  
"Why don't you talk to her when she comes up later? She's supposed to be rooming with Hermione and me. She's really quite nice. I think you'd like her." Ron blushed slightly.  
  
"I don't know. I don't think -"  
  
"Don't start with that thinking, Ron! She already likes you. So, just be yourself! And don't worry about Harry. He'll come round eventually and realize what a lousy chap he's been. If he doesn't Hermione and I'll fix him."  
  
"You don't have to fight my battles for me, Ginny. I can take care of Harry." Ginny raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Well, I do what I can, Ron. I'll stay out of it for now, but the moment I see you ready to commit murder, believe me I'm going to do something." Ron nodded silently and sighed.  
  
"I'm really hungry." At this Ginny grinned.  
  
"I thought you might be." She pulled a napkin out of her pocket filled with meat pies and handed it to him.  
  
"Oh, you're brilliant!" He grabbed the meat pies hungrily.  
  
"I'll see you later," she waved and left the room. As Ron ate the meat pies he felt a peacefulness, confidence and happiness fill him.  
  
Ron was just finishing the last pie when Harry walked in. He immediately went to check on Hedwig who was sleeping and then nonchalantly asked,  
  
"So, Ron, how's it going?"  
  
Dum, dum, dummmmmmm..... Here's your cue to review! Update coming soon! 


	2. Magic Meat Pies

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Ron Weasely or any of the characters or place names by J.K. Rowling. (However Lydia Fronzeway IS my creation! Thank you!)  
  
Harry cleared his throat when Ron didn't answer right away.  
  
"So, hey is everything all right?" Ron swallowed his last bite, turned and smiled at his friend, feeling strangely happy. But not just any happy. He felt... Bubbly.  
  
"Oh, hi, Harry!" Ron said brightly. "I'm just great! Sorry, I haven't been too talkative. I'm feeling all right now. Tip top in fact!" Ron got up and walked over to his friend. Clapping Harry on the shoulder he said, "I've been meaning to ask you, let's get up early tomorrow for some Quidditch practice! What do you say, mate?" Harry stared blankly at his friend. What was wrong with Ron?  
  
"Uh. Yeah, sure, Ron. Um. How early were you thinking?"  
  
"Oh, how about five-thirty?" Ron smiled brightly. Harry's blank stare continued.  
  
"Five-THIRTY?? As in the morning?"  
  
"Yeah!"  
  
"Oh, uh..." Harry scratched his rough-shaven cheek. He wanted to make peace with Ron, whatever the problem was, but he was acting funny. "Sure."  
  
"Great! Well, I'm going down to the lounge. See you later, mate!" Ron floated out of the room. He felt light and happy. How strange. He didn't know what was going on, but he really didn't care. He'd never felt so happy in his life. When he got downstairs the room was filled with Gryffindors including Hermione and Ginny who were sitting with the new girl on the overstuffed couch in front of the roaring fireplace. Ron walked easily up to the group of girls.  
  
"Hi!" He smiled widely with a wink at the brown haired girl who blushed and ducked her head. Ginny and Hermione took one look at Ron and started giggling. "What?" he asked, a goofy grin on his face. Hermione just clapped a hand over her mouth and shook her head. "Well, are you going to introduce me to your friend?" Ginny smiled sweetly at her brother.  
  
"This is Lydia Fronzeway. She was a student at a small school in the Bahamas. What was it, the Island School of Witchcraft and Wizadry?" Lydia nodded her head. Ron plopped down on the couch, squeezing between Hermione and Lydia. By this time Ron's boldness had gotten the attention of quite a few people in the lounge. As they watched him they were forced to smother their laughs.  
  
"So, Lydia, do you like Quidditch?" Ron asked smiling openly. Lydia grinned, her face lighting up.  
  
"Oh, yes!" she breathed. "I love Quidditch! We have a small team on the islands, but they're good! You should see them play in a hurricane!" Ron's eyes widened.  
  
"A hurricane? You're joking! Even the Chudley Cannons can't play in a strong wind. What's the team's name? Have they played at the Quidditch Cup?"  
  
"They're the Bermuda Blazers. They just organized a few years ago and have been practicing to be able to go next year. Do you play, Ron?" she batted her eyes. He stuck his chest out proudly.  
  
"Yeah, I do! I'm goal keeper for the Gryffindor team."  
  
"Wow! I bet you're good!"  
  
At this point Ginny and Hermione got up and snuck away to leave the two alone. As soon as they were far enough away Ginny started giggling uncontrollably.  
  
"Just look at him! He's a new Ron!" Hermione surveyed her friend with an odd smile on her face.  
  
"Yes. I didn't think the Confidence Potion would work THAT well. Maybe adding the Elixir of Happiness was a little much. How many of the meat pies did he eat?"  
  
"Well, knowing Ron he ate all of them."  
  
"What?!" Hermione groaned. "Oh, no. I hadn't counted on that. It explains why he's a little over the top. Just look at him. It's almost sick watching them."  
  
"Well, it worked didn't it? Maybe this will be the boost he needs." Hermione frowned slightly, a little worried.  
  
"It wears off in a few hours, you know.. He'll probably have slept most of it off by the morning. I'm just worried he'll go back to being depressed. Has Harry talked to him yet?" Ginny shrugged.  
  
"I don't know. He was supposed to." At that moment Ron suddenly threw back his head and laughed loudly. Lydia giggled next to him, covering her mouth delicately. Hermione smiled.  
  
"They do make a cute match, though, don't they? I hope everything works out."  
  
"Me, too. I'm really getting tired of his whining." The girls went up to their room and as the night wore on the Gryffindor lounge slowly emptied until it was just Lydia and Ron.  
  
"I'm sure you'll like our school, Lydia. Most everyone is friendly. You'll just need to watch out for a few of the Slytherins." Lydia smiled up at him.  
  
"I really like you, Ron. I'm glad my father moved here. I was really worried about making friends." Her eyes sparkled beautifully in the firelight and Ron smiled.  
  
"I'm really glad you moved here, too. I -" Ron stopped talking for a moment. For a second his head felt funny. He shook his head slightly.  
  
"Are you alright, Ron?" Lydia asked, worried.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine. Maybe I should head to bed. I have some early morning Quidditch practice."  
  
"Oh, okay." She sounded a little disappointed.  
  
"What do you say we have breakfast together tomorrow morning?" Ron asked, not wanting to leave on a bad note. Her face brightened instantly.  
  
"Oh, all right! Sure." She got up and waved to Ron shyly. "Goodnight!" After she left Ron slowly got up. His head felt slightly fuzzy and his stomach felt a little queezy. He rubbed his stomach uncomfortably.  
  
"Maybe I ate too fast," he mumbled and wandered upstairs. By that time Dean, Seamus, and Harry were fast asleep. Ron quickly changed into his p.j.'s and fell into bed. The moment his head hit the pillow he was out.  
  
*** Stay tuned for the next installment of Ronald the Great... the ominously mysterious miracle is hovering in Ron's future! What will become of him?? (suspensful music plays) All right! Now's the time to REVIEW! Review Review! 


	3. Headache, Quidditch, Breakfast, & Death

Author's note: My apologies.. when I was writing the previous chapters I could not, for the life of me, remember what the Gryffindor hang out place was.. the lounge (shakes head) I just remembered it's called the COMMON ROOM! Hello!!!! *smacks forehead* Anyway, thought I'd bring that to your attention, not that you noticed anyway, right? P.S. Me no own Harry Potter stuff. Now on to: Headache, Quidditch, Breakfast, and Death  
  
Ron was rudely awakened by someone shoving him.  
  
"Ron....(shove)" No response. "Ron! (harder shove)" The red head groaned.  
  
"What?" Ron cracked his peepers open in his dark dormitory room. "Stop shoving me!"  
  
"Ron, we've got Quidditch practice, remember?" Harry was hovering over his friend, dark hair a frightful mess, half dressed, and glasses askew. It looked like he had just rolled out of bed, which he HAD.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ron sat up slowly and immediately his head began to swim. He reached out to grab onto something, but only grabbed air. Why was the room spinning? Harry sighed, exasperated.  
  
"Five-thirty Quidditch practice, remember? You asked me last night, and I, like an idiot, said yes." Harry yawned loudly. "Get up, already! I'm going to fall asleep on my feet."  
  
Ron was confused. He vaguely remembered talking to Harry and feeling unexplainably happy. Ron grabbed his head, willing it to stop spinning.  
  
"What do you mean, I asked you to do five-thirty Quidditch practice? Me? Are you sure it was me?"  
  
"Yes!" Harry's patience was growing thin. "Are you coming or not? If not, I'm going back to bed." Ron shook his head, which was a big mistake. He groaned.  
  
"No, no. We're up already. Might as well." What he really wanted to say was that he felt like he was going to be sick and to forget Quidditch. Instead he stood up and slowly started to change. Harry watched his friend, skeptically.  
  
"Are you all right? You didn't seem like yourself last night."  
  
Slowly images were coming back to Ron. Hating Harry (which he was starting to feel guilty for), eating meat pies, feeling extremely happy and confident, being downstairs and practically snogging the new girl. Whoa, what?! Ron froze in the middle of pulling his shirt on. He spun around to look at Harry. Another big mistake. His head was a few seconds slow in spinning with him and he almost fell over.  
  
"Harry, what exactly happened last night?" He finished getting dressed as his friend gave him a strange look.  
  
"Well, you left supper early, and later I came in here to ask if everything was all right. You were uh... strangely happy. Not that you're never happy, but it just wasn't YOU. Anyway, you said you were going downstairs to the common room and the last I checked you were throwing yourself all over that new girl, Lydia." Ron grabbed his broom and quaffle. Harry sighed.  
  
"You're serious about going out there?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, let's go," Ron said impatiently. He was deep in thought as they left the Gryffindor tower and left the castle for the Quidditch grounds.  
  
Harry yawned the whole way. He hoped that whatever was eating Ron would hurry and resolve itself so he could go back to bed as soon as possible. He'd somehow managed to weasel his uncle into letting him go off to Quidditch Camp for the remainder of the summer before school and felt very much up to par. He would have preferred to sleep in the first day of classes. But alas, what are good friends for?  
  
Ron in the meantime was trying to sort out last night's events in his mind. Everything was so fuzzy. But WHY? He had a sneaky suspicion it had something to do with the meat pies.  
  
"Ginny!" He suddenly yelled loudly, making Harry jump.  
  
"What?" Harry scratched his cheek again. They sure were itchy.  
  
"Ginny put a potion in my meat pies! I bet Hermione was in on it too. They were laughing at me last night."  
  
"Oh. Okay."  
  
"Are you saying you didn't know anything about it?" Ron asked. They had arrived at the Qudditch field and started stretching.  
  
"Um..." Harry thought hard. He couldn't remember overhearing anything. "No, I think I was a little pre-occupied." Ron frowned at this. Harry saw this and grabbed the quaffle.  
  
"So, what did you want to practice?" He bounced the ball easily from one hand to the other. Ron shrugged, suddenly feeling unnerved. A little sneaking thought entered his mind. "Super Seeker Harry wants to help you. You're the lousiest one on the team and an embarrassment as a friend. Why else would he bother getting up so early if he didn't want to be seen with you?" Ron shook his head to get rid of the thought.  
  
"Uh, I was needing some work on blocking. Fred said I was getting better, but I was off by a second."  
  
"Okay. Fly on up."  
  
Ron mounted his broom and shoved off. The cool early morning air whistled through his hair. The sky was a lightening shade of blue patched with dark, thick clouds. He closed his eyes. For one brief moment he felt free. He reluctantly opened his eyes and found the goals at the end of the pitch. Harry flew up, (on his much faster broom) and yelled,  
  
"Are you ready?"  
  
"Yeah!" Ron did not feel ready. His thoughts were suddenly on Ginny and Hermione and the meat pies. Then suddenly his mind turned to that new girl... what was her name, Lydia? His cheeks were just flushing pink as he remembered how close he had been to her, his arm nonchalantly draped on the couch nearly touching her shoulders when the quaffle was suddenly flying at him. Ron lunged as hard as he could, but the ball went in the hoop. Ron smacked his broomstick. "I wasn't ready!"  
  
Harry had dived to catch the quaffle and come back up.  
  
"But you said you were!"  
  
"Well, I wasn't!" Ron shouted back grouchily. Harry was a little taken aback.  
  
"All right, well let me know when you're absolutely ready! You know it's not going to be like this in the game! You need to be on your toes every second." Ron growled. Harry was telling him what to do yet AGAIN.  
  
"I know that! It's not like I haven't played before!"  
  
"Are you ready now?" Harry asked, trying to keep his temper. Ron was really starting to get impossible. Ron breathed deeply.  
  
"Yes!" but he wasn't really. Yet again, Lydia's face appeared in his mind's eye, impossibly close. Her blue eyes were sparkling in the firelight. She was saying something; smiling, laughing, touching his arm. He could almost feel her warm hand on his skin- WHAM! The quaffle slammed into his forehead. Ron had to grab onto his broomstick to keep from falling off.  
  
"What the- Ron, what happened?! I aimed that right at you!" Harry flew up to his friend who was pressing his fist to his forehead, trying to keep his eyes from watering.  
  
"Yes, I KNOW! I almost felt it as it NEARLY KNOCKED MY HEAD OFF!" Ron finished with a yell.  
  
"You don't have to yell, Ron, I'm right in front of you."  
  
"I do too have to yell, because my head is throbbing and it's all your fault!"  
  
"MY fault? You said you were ready TWICE and you weren't. And it was your idea to come out here in the first place. Maybe if you had practiced more in the summer, you wouldn't have to be dragging your friends, who DID practice, out at some insane hour of the morning!" Ron's fist dropped, revealing a bright red spot, his jaw slack in shock. That had cut right to the heart and it showed in Ron's eyes. Just then it started raining. It went unnoticed, however, between the two boys.  
  
"I can't believe you just said that. What kind of a friend are you? You KNEW that I practiced all summer! Couldn't you have helped me instead of going off to some fancy, snotty quidditch camp?" Harry shook his head.  
  
"Don't be blaming your lack of talent on ME." Harry said nastily. Ron's jaw clenched at the words and his face turned a dangerous shade of red. The spot on his forehead started to throb visibly. (eeewwww, but I had to write it!)  
  
"Forget it," he said quietly. "Forget practice, and FORGET YOU!" He flew down to the ground, but was passed up by a much faster Harry, which made him even MORE furious. They stomped off the field (not speaking), into the castle (not speaking), and up to the Gryffindor tower... well you get the idea. This wedge in their friendship was not going to go away so easily.  
  
Ron threw himself on his bed, drenched clothes and all, but when Harry entered the room, Ron picked himself up and went downstairs to the common room. He put a few lumps of coal on the fire and curled up on the sofa. He stared at the growing flame, shivering and feeling miserable. What had just happened? One day at Hogwarts and his life was an even bigger mess than when he'd got here! Thoughts swirled around and around in his head. He needed to remember to chew Ginny and Hermione out for messing with his food. But what for? Hadn't they done him a favor?? He rubbed his sore head, trying to remember.  
  
Lydia was so beautiful with her freckled nose, glittering sapphire eyes and shy smile. He remembered cracking some joke and she had actually laughed at him! It hadn't been a fake laugh either. He smiled slightly and nestled into the squishy couch cushions. He had been so confident, so carefree.  
  
The next thing Ron knew, he was surrounded by people talking on their way out of the common room.  
  
"Hey, Ron, are you coming to breakfast?" Ginny stood with Lydia looking at him and both of them had very puzzled looks on their faces.  
  
"Did you sleep out here all night?" Lydia asked worriedly. Ron sat up confused and groggy. His wet hair had dried all smashed up to the side, there was a huge red welt the shape of a quaffle on his forehead, and he had some dried drool on his chin. (Gosh I feel SO BAD for him! HA!) On top of this one side of his clothes were still damp and very, very wrinkled.  
  
"Uh, what? No, no. I just fell asleep out here, that's all. Breakfast did you say? Yeah, sure." He was apparently unaware of his appearance. Ginny stifled a giggle unsuccessfully. It wasn't until Hermione walked by that she stopped and rolled her eyes.  
  
"Really, Ginny. You were going to let him go downstairs like THAT?" She pulled Ron to his feet, still a little confused, and marched him to his room. "You need to wash your face, do something with your hair, and change your clothes," she stated matter-of-factly. "What in the world did you DO to yourself?" Ron shook his head sadly.  
  
"For some unknown reason I asked Harry to go to 5:30 Quidditch practice this morning under the influence of some strange potion..." at this he gave her a dark look. She feigned innocence. "I woke up feeling sicker than I ever have with some vague memories of flirting with the new girl, went to practice Quidditch, got a quaffle in the head, got insanely angry, and now Harry and I aren't speaking." Hermione sighed.  
  
"Oh, Ron. I'm sorry to hear about you and Harry. I hope it's nothing that I did. The potion was supposed to help not -" she caught herself, but not in time. Ron gave her a dark, suspicious glare. She smiled nervously. "Look, I'll wait in the common room with the girls. Don't take too long. We're hungry." She made a quick exit and Ron spiffied himself up the best he could, mumbling about meddling friends.  
  
Sure, he had had a good night. It was obvious since that Lydia girl was actually talking to him of her own free will. But if there was anything close to a relapse from the potion, this morning sure was it. He finished up, grateful Harry wasn't there to annoy him further, and trudged down to meet the girls, depression setting in. What else did this lousy day have in store?  
  
Ron was silent as they walked downstairs. He tried to make an effort to smile at Lydia who was making her best attempts at conversation, but Ron just wasn't even close to being as happy and confident from the night before. Lydia eventually gave up and joined in with Hermione and Ginny and Ron was left lagging behind.  
  
They reached the crowded, noisy dining hall (oh crud.. is it the dining hall or the great hall???? I'm so confused! I know this stuff! Arrg) and took a seat all together at the Gryffindor table. As a last valiant effort Lydia sat next to Ron, quite close in fact, to the point where their knees almost touched. Ron blushed slightly noticing this. Ron noticed Harry sitting at the far end of the Gryffindor table with a bunch of girls and found himself scowling. Lydia cleared her throat. She and Ginny had been filled in about Ron and Harry's not speaking to one another.  
  
"So, Ron, do you think they have any spots open on the team? I was thinking of trying out." Ron didn't react right away.  
  
"What? Oh, um, I don't know." Lydia frowned. They served themselves and started eating. Ron was grateful for the silence. He was, however, very watchful over his food. He spent the whole meal eyeing his sister and Hermione who only sighed and rolled their eyes at each other.  
  
Just as Ron was starting to cheer up somewhat from having some decent, untouched food in his stomach, Harry walked by. He winked at Lydia, making sure Ron was watching. Lydia flushed and smiled politely but didn't make much of it. Ron however snapped.  
  
"What was that??" He asked to no one in particular. Harry was smart enough to walk faster until he was out of danger. Lydia took the comment to be directed at her.  
  
"What was what?"  
  
"You smiled at that jerk!" She frowned, her forehead furrowing.  
  
"So? I was just being nice. It's not like we're going steady! I can smile at whomever I want to!" Her voice started to rise, making Hermione and Ginny's eyes widen in surprise. They hadn't seen this side of the new girl yet. Ron, however, wasn't to be put off.  
  
"Well, do you want to?"  
  
"Want to what?"  
  
"Go steady!" Lydia shook her head in disgust. By this time their argument had gotten the attention of the surrounding tables.  
  
"You know what, Ron? You're not the person I thought you were. What happened to the guy that I met last night?"  
  
"Well, that guy doesn't exist! Someone poisoned me and made me temporarily pleasant! So sue me!" Ron scowled. That had NOT come out the way he had intended it to. Realizing this he stood up, ready to leave. He turned around and was immediately confronted with Draco pointing and laughing at him from the Slytherin table.  
  
Ron walked away before he could even think of doing something violent. This was not right. Not at all. Why did all this have to happen to HIM?  
  
He walked out of the great hall, unsure of where to go. He decided on going outside before classes. He needed some fresh air. Just as he was passing the staircase, Professor Trelawney passed him, late to breakfast. She stopped suddenly, going rigid and turned around.  
  
"You!" She screeched. Ron stopped and hung his head. What now? He turned to face her.  
  
"Yes, ma'am?" He tried to remain pleasant, but he had to work really hard at it. She stretched her trembling hand out to him. She had a funny glazed look in her eyes.  
  
"You," she whispered hoarsely. "You must heed me! The decision is not what you think it is! Beware!! Beware of the chocolate frog!!!" Her voice quavered on the last syllable, and suddenly rose to a high pitch. "Beware! Beware!!! The chocolate frog brings DEATH!" Then suddenly she shuddered and blinked. "Oh, hello, young man. Just coming from breakfast?" She leaned forward confidentially. "Were the scrambled eggs slimy?" Ron stared at her strangely, a little put off.  
  
"Uh, yeah they kind of were." The old woman clapped her delicate hands together in delight. "Ooooh, goody!" and she practically skipped off to the great hall.  
  
Ron gazed after her, in shock. What had she just said? Beware of the chocolate FROG? That old hag was getting battier every year! At that moment the bell rang and students poured into the hall, where Ron was standing, on their way to classes. He was suddenly surrounded by dozens of chattering students. There might as well have been a million. Ron suddenly felt closed in and started to panic. He glimpsed Draco sauntering by whistling "Weasley is Our King". Harry flashed by, scowling at him. Ginny, Hermione, and Lydia passed, shaking their heads in disgust. The room was spinning and spinning and spinning. Ron felt like his head would explode.  
  
It was then he snapped. 


	4. Home for a Week, Day 1

Harry Potter does not own me.  
  
Chapter 4 – Home for a Week/Day 1  
  
Ron crossed his arms over his chest, scowling. He slumped in his seat and watched the scenery fly by outside the train car window. He couldn't believe it! He was being sent home for "mental instability"!! They had even sent Madam Pomphrey with him on the train; they felt he was so mentally unstable. He couldn't understand how all this could have happened, and yet here he was, being whisked home on a specially ordered Hogwarts train.  
  
Madam Pomphrey bustled into the car. "Would you like something tea, dear? I've just brewed a fresh pot." She smiled kindly at him, like he was some kind of stupid idiot or something. Ron shrugged.  
  
"I guess." The woman poured him a cup, handed him some biscuits, and then settled back in the seat across from him with a pile full of knitting. Click click click click click. Her needles flashed back and forth, back and forth. He stared at the ends of her needles and after about a minute his eyelids felt droopy. This was going to be a long trip.  
  
Ron tried to lean his head against the window and sleep, but the train car kept bumping to and fro, making it too uncomfortable to doze off. He tried sipping his tea and eating his biscuits, but the tea was bitter and the biscuits dried out his mouth. He fidgeted in his seat and sighed loudly.  
  
"Did you need something, dear?" Madam Pomphrey looked up at him over her spectacles, but her needles didn't stop. Click click click click. Ron sighed.  
  
"No." He sat still, leaned his head back, and closed his eyes. Yesterday's events seemed like a far-off nightmare. Unfortunately, for the evidence of the lingering sick feeling in his stomach, he knew that it had all happened. Just thinking about it brought on a wave of nausea.  
  
He remembered being surrounded by people, feeling closed in and panicky, and then, he wasn't sure quite why it happened, but he threw back his head and screamed at the top of his lungs, "AAAAAHHH!!! LEAVE ME ALONE!!! JUST LEAVE...ME...ALONE!!" Then to mark the crowning glory of all embarrassments he fainted dead away – right in the middle of the crowd. Of course much after that was blank, but the next thing he knew he was lying in a bed being attended by Madam Pomphrey, Hermione, Ginny, and Lydia leaning over him and a reluctant Harry hovering in the background. He then started flailing about and yelling nonsense. Lydia was the last person he wanted to have around seeing how much of a weak, nutcase he was! (Not that the flailing and shouting was helping any.) Ron, remembering this, moaned in embarrassed agony, the memory painfully sharp in his mind's eye. Madam Pomphrey was immediately at his side.  
  
"Ron, dear, are you all right? Would you like somewhere to lie down?"  
  
Without waiting for a response, she rolled up some blankets and made him lie down on the bench, covering him in some more blankets. She was quite annoying, but he didn't have the energy to protest.  
  
At least he didn't have to worry about classes. He'd been given a week off to recuperate from whatever he was ailing from. Frankly, Ron was glad for the break. He didn't have to worry about girls, or meddling friends, or competing with Harry. He could sleep in as much as he wanted to (doctor's orders), lounge about, or do some light homework assignments. He was, however, under no circumstances, to do anything that was remotely stressing. This would be a trick, especially if Fred and George were going to be around. He hoped they'd be too busy to bother and tease him.  
  
Ron quickly slipped into a dream-filled sleep of Harry sauntering around, grinning, his face sporting a full mustache and goatee, flirting with Lydia, and munching on chocolate frogs.  
  
Madam Pomphrey jiggled Ron awake.  
  
"Ron, dear, we're at the station. You're parents are waiting outside, and they're quite anxious." Ron moaned and sat up. He rubbed his head, bits of his dream still lingering in his head.  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
"We're at the station. Come along, then." She had his satchel in one hand and his jacket in the other. Ron followed her out onto the platform and was immediately enveloped tightly in his parents' arms. Apparently, even his father had taken off work to meet him.  
  
"Ugh! Mum! You needn't squeeze so hard, I'm all right, you know!" Ron mumbled and tried to wriggle away. His parents let go and his father ruffled his hair.  
  
"He looks fine to me!" Mr. Weasley smiled at his son. Mrs. Weasley glared at her husband.  
  
"He's had a nervous breakdown! There's nothing fine about that!"  
  
Ron blushed crimson, even though it was only Madam Pomphrey that was there to overhear.  
  
"Mum, do you mind?" he grumbled. Madam Pomphrey smiled.  
  
"I'll just be going then. He needs plenty of rest, food, and relaxation. He's been given some light homework to do. Just remember that under no circumstances is he to be under any stress. Send me an owl at the end of the week and tell me how he's doing. We'll decide when he's to come back then. Well, good-bye! Take care, Ronald," and she was back on the train and speeding back to Hogwarts.  
  
Ron followed his parents out to the car and they rode back to their home in relative silence. Mrs. Weasley kept looking back at Ron in her rear-view mirror, worry written all over her face.  
  
As soon as they were in the kitchen Mrs. Weasley sat Ron down in a chair, gave him some tea and a plateful of biscuits, kissed his forehead and sat across from him. Mr. Weasley leaned against the kitchen wall munching on a biscuit.  
  
"So, dear, tell us what happened." Mrs. Weasley smiled kindly at her son.  
  
Ron frowned. His mum was the last person he wanted to talk about what happened.  
  
"Look, Mum, Dad, I'm really tired and talking about everything will just make me upset again. Can I go to bed now?  
  
"Oh." Mrs. Weasley looked disappointed. "Yes, of course, dear. Go lie down."  
  
Ron dragged himself up the stairs, his satchel bumping up the stairs behind him. He felt so dazed.  
  
He stumbled into his room, shutting his door firmly behind him. He leaned against the door and took a deep breath. The first thing he noticed was a deep silence – very strange for his house – but then again he was never home during the school term. Ron left his satchel and jacket on the floor and fell onto his bed. He breathed deeply and smiled. For a few moments he enjoyed his familiar surroundings, with the posters of the Chudley Cannons players waving at him cheerfully from the perches on their brooms.  
  
Without meaning to he fell asleep and the next thing he knew he was being pounced on.  
  
"Ooof! Get off me!" he shouted. Fred laughed from atop his stomach.  
  
"Has our little brother followed in our footsteps and been expelled from school?" George shook his head.  
  
"Really, Ron, it's about time. Being a prefect and all, I never thought it would happen." Ron shoved his brother off of him.  
  
"I haven't been expelled. I'm home because I- " he paused uncertainly.  
  
"Ronald is home, because he's had a nervous breakdown and needs a rest." Mrs. Weasley came in with a tray of leftovers from supper.  
  
"Mum!" Ron protested, his face going crimson. George and Fred stared at him.  
  
"You're joking, right?" George asked in disbelief. Fred hardly made an effort to hide his snigger. Ron scowled.  
  
"I'm not to be disturbed, mind you! No stress, no worry, got it?" Fred and George stood up.  
  
"Oh, we hear you loud and clear, little brother." Fred said seriously. "We won't bother you a bit. I hear insanity is contagious." Ron opened his mouth to yell at them, but his mother stopped him.  
  
"Fred, George, do I need to remind you two to finish your chores again?" The twins looked offended.  
  
"We're highly professional businessmen, need I remind you?" Fred argued. "We don't do 'chores'." Mrs. Weasley glared at them and raised her voice.  
  
"You do while you're in this house! Now get moving!" George shook his head at his brother as they left the room.  
  
"I keep telling you, mate, we need to be saving up money for our own place instead of buying new broomsticks every time a new one comes in." Mrs. Weasley turned to Ron.  
  
"Eat up, dear. I don't want you starving yourself, just because you're not feeling well."  
  
"I feel fine, Mum."  
  
"Well, you look pale to me. I'll come back up and get your tray later." She kissed his forehead, much to his consternation, and closed the door behind her.  
  
Alone at last and feeling ravenous, Ron ate his food. The fact that his mother had cooked his favorite meal did not escape him and he enjoyed every bite of it. Just as he had cleaned his plate he felt a sudden longing to practice a little quidditch before it got dark. With a pang, he remembered that he had left his broom at school. He sat, scowling in thought, when suddenly something George had said came to his mind.  
  
How many broomsticks did they have if they bought a set every time a new one came in? They had to have at least five apiece! Surely they wouldn't miss one... Ron set aside his tray and tiptoed to his door. He opened it with a crack and listened for his brothers' footsteps upstairs. He didn't hear anything, so slowly, and as quietly as he could manage on the old, uneven wooden floors, he snuck upstairs. He listened closely at Fred and George's door, and hearing nothing, opened it.  
  
He hadn't been inside his brothers' room in a long time and was amazed at the hodge- podge of junk lying about. Most of it was boxes of mysterious ingredients, bits of chemicals in vials, and beakers with strange looking liquids in them arranged on shelves. Stepping closer Ron found that the labels were all in code. There were stacks of crates filled with boxes of apparently finished products, waiting to be sent out. Their beds were scattered with scribbled on parchments and broken quills. Weak sunlight from the setting sun filtered in the dusty windows making the glass beakers shine dully.  
  
Ron looked around for a stash of brooms and didn't find any within eyesight. He sighed. This meant he would need to need to search for them. He carefully shut their door and proceeded to rummage through his brothers' things. He was careful to leave everything just as he found it.  
  
Right when he was about to give up he moved a pile of clothing to discover an ancient looking wooden chest. It was long and narrow – just the right length and depth to fit a stash of brooms. He lifted the lid, pulled aside the thick cloth covering inside and was met with nothing but a bunch of parchment scrolls and a small gold box with a red bow.  
  
The box caught his attention immediately. His heart beat quickened. This had to be one of their top-secret projects they were always going on about, while never actually revealing anything on the subject. It was always so annoying how they did that, and it was obvious it was always on purpose. With a trembling hand and all thoughts of finding a broom gone from his mind, he lifted the gold box out. Barely breathing, he pulled the ribbon, causing it to fall away. He pulled the lid off carefully to find some blood red velvet. He folded that away to find a little morsel tucked gently into the crimson folds. It was a frog. A chocolate frog.  
  
Ron's mouth watered. It had been a few days since his last chocolate frog, and his mother hadn't given him any dessert. Several thoughts raced through his mind. What was so special about this chocolate frog? What had his brothers done to it? These and many more thoughts were washed away by his drooling saliva. He lifted the frog out of the box and held it, hovering, in front of his mouth. Suddenly, Madam Trelawney's voice shrieked in his head.  
  
"Beware! Beware!!! The chocolate frog brings DEATH!" He paused, a little uncertain, but only for a moment. He laughed it off, murmuring, "That crazy old hag," and shoved the chocolate frog into his mouth.  
  
Mwahahahahaaa! To find out what happens, you must review! Yes, that's right! Review, and not only will the story continue, but you'll get a chocolate frog!!! Heh heh heh (while supplies last) sing songy Review!!!!!! 


	5. The Ominously Mysterious Miracle

Ron and me... we don't own each other or claim to own each other. So we're cool him and me. So, hopefully J.K. Rowling is cool with that too.  
  
Chapter 5 – The Ominously Mysterious Miracle  
  
Ron chewed happily on the bit of molded chocolate, enjoying the warm, thick, stickiness melting in his mouth. After a few seconds, however, a strange tingling filled his mouth, sliding all the way down his throat which was quickly followed by an overwhelming bitterness. The taste almost made him gag.  
  
"Ugh!" he cried, stumbling to his feet. For fear he'd be sick, he quickly closed the trunk, threw the clothes back on top and rushed out of the room, slamming the door. He ran downstairs and to the bathroom. He leaned over the toilet, but gratefully he didn't throw up. Ron rubbed his clammy white cheeks. He really needed to stay away from magically tainted food.  
  
Ron trudged to his room and changed into his pajamas. He felt strangely weak and he started to really worry about what had been in that chocolate frog. Maybe he could sleep it off. He fell into his soft, lumpy bed, pulled the covers up over his head and was instantly asleep.  
  
Ron awoke very slowly. At first he heard people talking around him.  
  
"It's been three days. What do you think's the matter?"  
  
"I don't know. Wait. Look. He's comin' 'round."  
  
Ron struggled to open his eyes, which were all that was visible from beneath the blanket, and was confronted by a grinning Fred and George.  
  
"Had quite a nap there, now didn't you, Ron?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" he mumbled from beneath his covers.  
  
"You've been knocked out for three days. What'd you do? Stun yourself?"  
  
"No." He struggled to sit up, the blanket falling away.  
  
"Oy." Fred and George's eyes went wide as they stared at their little brother. "That's not good."  
  
"No. Wait till Mum sees. She'll go bezerk." The boys laughed, shaking their heads.  
  
"What?" Ron asked, suspicious. The boys ignored him.  
  
"We should probably warn her." Mrs. Weasley's voice came from down the hall.  
  
"Ron, are you awake?"  
  
"Too late," the twins said in unison and continued to stare with humoristic glee. Mrs. Weasley bustled in with a tray of tea.  
  
"Oh, good, darling, you're awake - " She dropped the tray with a crash, causing everyone to jump, and screamed at the top of her lungs.  
  
"My baby! What's happened to you?" Ron panicked.  
  
"What? What?!" She turned to Fred and George who were trying to smother their laughter in the corner.  
  
"You!" She pointed a shaking, furious finger at them. "This is the last straw!"  
  
"No! Mum," Fred protested. "I swear it wasn't us!" Ron saw what was happening and knew he needed to step in.  
  
"No, Mum, it's okay. They didn't do anything," he said, even though he didn't know what "anything" was. She huffed.  
  
"I'm going to consult my remedy book." Mrs. Weasley murmured tearfully and left the room. George spoke up.  
  
"I'd keep the look if I were you, mate."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Ron asked irritably. He got up from his bed, feeling much better than before he fell asleep and headed to the loo. His brothers followed him closely.  
  
Almost afraid to look in the mirror, he looked anyway. What he saw made his heart stop.  
  
The reflection staring back at him was that of a handsome chiseled face with a day's growth of golden red facial hair. His eyes were a dazzling blue and when he smiled at his reflection, he almost took his own breath away.  
  
"Hang on! What the- Is this really me?" he asked, his voice cracking. The next time he spoke his voice was half an octave lower. "What's happened?" He touched his scraggly face to see if it was real and it was.  
  
"We don't know," his brothers replied with an innocent shrug. A giggle bubbled up in Ron's throat and he started laughing. He laughed until he cried. It was when he reached up to wipe away the tears that he saw a muscle bulge in his arm.  
  
Impatiently, he ripped off his nightshirt and flexed in the mirror. He laughed again and spun around to see his brothers studying him, Fred stroking his chin as if he had a foot long beard.  
  
"Just look at me!" Ron cried in triumph. "I have something flex! At last! LOOK at me! I have MUSCLES!"  
  
Just then Mrs. Weasley wandered in, her nose stuck in a very large book.  
  
"It says here there's a way to find out what's caused this, Ronald. We'll have you back to normal in no time, dear. And if I can't fix you, it's off to St. Mungo's for you!" Ron froze.  
  
"Uh – Mum. I feel fine actually. There's no need to panic. I've just hit a growth spurt that's all."  
  
"I have seven children, Ron, and that was no growth spurt!" Her chin started to tremble. "I mean, just look at you!" She surveyed her handsome, chiseled, shirtless son and burst into tears. Feeling a tad bit guilty, and suspecting that the chocolate frog was responsible for all this, he patted his mother on the back.  
  
"Really, Mum, everything will be all right. It'll wear off, I'm sure of it." She threw her arms around Ron and continued to sob. Helpless, he looked over to the twins who were deep in a whispered conversation. Suddenly, they turned to him with bright smiles on their faces. George attempted to comfort his mother.  
  
"Look, Mum, Fred and I are a bit expert in areas such as this. We'll take care of Ron and figure out what he's done. We'll have him back to normal in no time at all. In the mean time, we need to have him under close observation in case something comes up. What do you say?" Mrs. Weasley let go of Ron, sniffling.  
  
"Well, I suppose that will be all right. We'll see what your father says when he comes home." Just then a voice shouted out from downstairs in the kitchen.  
  
"I'm home!" Mrs. Weasley wiped her face.  
  
"Good, your father's home already. He's early." She bustled out of the bathroom. Ron regarded his brothers suspiciously.  
  
"What was that all about? What have you two got in mind?" Fred grinned at him.  
  
"We just thought you might want to enjoy your good looks while you still have them. We were going to go clubbing tonight. Mum's already agreed."  
  
"Besides," George added. "You're under observation." Ron was a little surprised.  
  
"You want me to hang out with you?  
  
"Sure!" At that moment Mr. Weasley called up to the boys.  
  
"Come downstairs, you three and tell me what your mother's going on about!" Ron followed the twins, trying to hide himself from his father's gaze, but of course that didn't work. As soon as they entered the kitchen, Mr. Weasley's eyes went directly to Ron. Mr. Weasley, who was sitting at the table, stood in shock.  
  
"Why, Ronald – what's happened? Would you look at that? He's the spitting image of me at that age!!"  
  
"Oh, don't ridiculous, Arthur! You looked nothing like that! And believe me I know!" Mrs. Weasley stated crossly. Mr. Weasley turned to his wife.  
  
"What do you mean I looked nothing like that? Of course I did!" Fred and George grabbed Ron's arm and they snuck out of the kitchen's back door.  
  
"Look, mate we've got to be off to work, but if we were you, we'd run off about now." The twins looked at each other and Fred leaned closer to Ron.  
  
"If you want to get some quidditch practice in - " George butted in.  
  
"And goodness knows you need it." Fred continued.  
  
"Then some of our old, but good, broomsticks are in the shed. We'll be back around 7 tonight to pick you up. Later!" And before Ron had a chance to say anything they had disaparrated with a pop.  
  
Deep in thought, Ron made his way over to the shed. He wondered if Fred and George, with their sudden friendliness toward him, knew anything of why he was in this predicament. Ron forgot everything when he opened the door to the shed. There, in a neat little stack were their old brooms. Nimbus 2000s and Firebolt (which had just been outdated by the unfathomably faster Dragonblaze). Ron was breathless as he reached out to touch one of the Firebolts. How horribly jealous he had been when Harry had gotten one from Sirius. His friend had been kind enough to take him for a ride, but that was nothing compared to flying one yourself.  
  
Ron grasped the ebony handle and felt it vibrate at his touch. It wanted to be ridden. He could feel it. Ron gently removed it from the shed, and swung his leg over the broomstick, uncaring as to the fact that he was shirtless and still in his pajamas. With a soft tap of his bare feet the broom shot off into the sky, leaving Ron's stomach on the ground. He and the broom soared above the treetops and straight into the atmosphere, leaving England far below. He yelled at the top of his lungs, delirious and giddy from the rush. He couldn't remember ever being so happy.  
  
Okee dokee, folks! Good times, good fun, but now REVIEWING must be done! Chapter 6 coming soon! 


	6. Ronald the Dancer?

Own Harry Potter?? ME??? Of COURSE not!! Mwahahahahahahaaaaa.........or do I? HAHA j/k  
  
Chapter 6 – Ronald the Dancer???  
  
For the next three hours Ron practiced quidditch. He had never before felt so alive! If he had been playing the Chudley Cannons... the whole team against one...he would have kicked REAR! He bewitched the quaffle to fly at him and he never blocked so many passes in all his life. (Once he had blocked 15 out of 15 it went without question.) Apparently, whatever had happened to him, it made him an amazing quidditch player as well. Ron had a sneaking thought that he should go try out for a pro quidditch team this very moment, have his 15 minutes of fame before whatever he had eaten were to wear off, and then go back to being normal. This glorious revelation was interrupted, however, by Mrs. Weasley yelling out the back door.  
  
"Ronald! I know you're out there! Come in for dinner, dear!" His stomach rumbling, Ron reluctantly got off the Firebolt, put it back in the shed and went into the house. He sat down at the table to a huge noon dinner. His father sat at the head of the table, serving up some boiled beets and green beans. Ron gratefully piled food onto his plate and started eating. He couldn't believe how starving he was!!  
  
"Ron, slow down, you'll get a stomach ache," his mother chided and sat down. She stared at her son, shoveling food into his mouth, and her chin suddenly wobbled. "Oh, Ron. Look at you. You look so OLD!" She sniffled pitifully and Ron looked up from his plate. Feeling guilty he said,  
  
"I'm real sorry, Mum. I'm not sure what's happened." She sniffled again, collecting herself.  
  
"Well, after you eat, I want you to take a bath, change, and work on some of that homework you were given. You may look older, but you're still sixteen, young man!" She stood up and left the room in a huff. Ron looked over to his father, a little confused at his mother's reaction. Mr. Weasley only shrugged.  
  
"You've got to understand, Ronald, that this is very hard for your mother, seeing you this old all of a sudden. It makes us feel quite a bit older ourselves. But, don't you worry, we'll find a cure for you yet." Ron looked down at his half-eaten food.  
  
"Actually, Dad, I rather like this look. I've never really felt handsome, you know. But now -" he paused, floundering. His father nodded, understanding.  
  
"I know exactly what you mean." He leaned forward confidentially. "I'd enjoy your looks while I still could, if I were you." Ron grinned.  
  
"That's what Fred and George said." Mr. Weasley laughed, spearing a beet.  
  
"Well, they are my sons, after all, eh?" He laughed again and shoved the whole beet into his mouth, bright red juice trickling down his chin.  
  
After dinner, Ron obeyed his mother, to prevent any further blubbering on her part. He decided to get as much homework done as possible, straightened his room up in case his mother got on him about that, and even cleaned the loo. By the time he was done, his appetite was overpowering, and his mother called him down to supper. As soon as he sat down, Mrs. Weasley turned to him, all smiles.  
  
"We forgot to mention it to you before. Yesterday we had an owl from Charlie. He'll be stopping in for supper and spending the night." Ron's heart leapt.  
  
"Really?" he could barely contain his excitement, so he did a little dance in his chair. Just as the food was set on the table, there was a loud pop and Charlie apparrated in the kitchen, knocking his head on some hanging pots.  
  
"Blast it!" he yelled, ducking his head and rubbing the sore spot. Seeing his family, he grinned, swept his mother up in a hug who giggled like a girl, and clapped a hand on his father's shoulder. Turning he saw Ron. He was just about to ask who they had as a guest, but his jaw dropped, realizing who it was.  
  
"Ron??!" He looked to his parents and then back at Ron. "Is that my LITTLE brother?? What happened! Have I really been gone that long?" He started laughing. "Wow! I had no idea looks better than mine ran in the family!" He plopped down next to Ron. Ron smiled sheepishly.  
  
"Actually, it was an accident. It's not permanent." His face fell thinking about it. Charlie leaned over.  
  
"One of Fred and George's 'experiements'?" Ron shrugged not wanting to reveal anything, but Charlie nodded, understanding. They ate, not waiting for the twins. Charlie's coming cheered every one immensely and the whole mood of the house was changed completely.  
  
Just as they were finishing up Fred and George apparrated and Ron ran upstairs to change. He threw clothes around his freshly cleaned room trying to find something "cool" and "un-Ron", but settled on some corduroys and a nice black shirt he wore to Sirius' funeral. It brought sad memories, but it was the best he could manage in a pinch.  
  
When he got downstairs it had been decided that Charlie was going to go out with them. Ron couldn't have been happier. However, Mrs. Weasley was expressing some doubts at Ron going out in his predicament.  
  
"Don't worry, Mum!" Fred reassured her. "We'll keep a close eye on Ron. He's under observation, remember? We'll have everything sorted out soon." George grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him toward the fireplace. Ron took a pinch of floo powder and George whispered in his ear the place he was to say. He threw the powder into the fireplace and yelled,  
  
"Pirate Alley!" Mrs. Weasley gasped and jumped to her feet.  
  
"Don't you dare take him to that place!" she hollered, but it was too late. Ron was flying through the floo network, hearths and fires flashing past him. Finally, his feet landed in a brick fireplace and he stumbled out. Fred, George and Charlie were right behind him.  
  
"Where are we?  
  
"Pirate Alley," Charlie said with a grin at the twins.  
  
"What's in Pirate Alley?"  
  
"Why, all of the most questionable clubs you could find in the wizarding world." Charlie replied, shaking his head in humor. Fred and George shrugged.  
  
"We've gotten the best business here. We're not here just to have fun, you know, but we've got some important clients to meet. It's all work and no play for us two," and they walked out of the small shop they had landed in.  
  
Charlie shook his head again, laughing. "Sure, sure. Now, where's this club we're supposed to go to? I heard the Weird Sisters were playing tonight." Ron's jaw dropped.  
  
"The Weird Sisters? Really??" He laughed in triumph. "He'll be so jealous!"  
  
"Who'll be jealous?" Charlie asked, walking alongside Ron as the twins lead the way.  
  
"Oh, no one," he mumbled. Of course he had been thinking of Harry, but he wasn't going to admit that.  
  
Just then they entered a sleek black building with blue lights in the window, a dull thudding dance beat coming from the inside. It was labeled "The Glass Eye". Charlie laughed.  
  
"It's been ages since I've been to The Glass Eye! I thought it would have been closed down by now."  
  
The inside was pitch black at first, but then they emerged from the hall way into a large room. There was a large curtained stage at one end. Blue laser lights were flashing and a disco ball hung down in the middle of the room. The room was crowded with a throbbing crowd of dancing witches and wizards. A bouncer stopped them. Ron panicked. He may have looked it, but he wasn't old enough to be at a club like this!  
  
The bouncer looked Ron in the eye.  
  
"Are you going to be drinking?"  
  
"N-no!" He stammered. The bouncer nodded him through. Ron sighed, walking with his brothers who were asked the same question, but had answered 'yes' with no harm done. Ron inquired about this, but was interrupted with a shout from the hallway they had just left. Ron turned back to see a wizard that looked not much older than his original self being escorted out. Charlie shook his head.  
  
"He must have lied. The bouncer has a lie detector and an age detector. He was too young, that one." Ron was relieved he had answered correctly.  
  
Fred and George, dressed in their matching shiny purple shirts, went off in search of some client, and Charlie and Ron walked out onto the dance floor.  
  
"It's been ages since I've done any dancing," Charlie admitted. "Dragons don't do much dancing." Ron laughed, a little nervous his first time in a club. But they joined the group of dancing people nevertheless, and Charlie started dancing like he did it all the time. Ron was a little embarrassed, but soon realized everyone looked a little silly, and that no one really cared, and so he let loose a little and just moved around to the beat of the music.  
  
Suddenly a pretty, dark haired girl moved closer to him, dancing, and his heart nearly stopped. But then she winked at him, causing his face to warm and grin like a goofball. However, being that he wasn't the old Ron, the look was very flattering.  
  
"Hi, what's your name?" she asked, batting her pretty gray eyes.  
  
"Uh, Ron." If he had been on his toes he would have thought of some other, much cooler name, but it was too late.  
  
"Hi, Ron. I'm Olivia."  
  
"How – how old are you?" he asked. He had to know.  
  
"Twenty-one. How about you?" Twenty-ONE? He nearly swallowed his tongue. His friends would never believe this.  
  
"Uh, yeah. Me too." She giggled and danced closer to him. Ron looked helplessly over at Charley, but he was involved in dancing and laughing with another pretty girl. She was touching his earring and no doubt asking about it. Ron wanted to roll his eyes, but he looked back over to the Olivia. Wow, he thought. She's really close. The music kept going on and on, it was almost hypnotising. Olivia kept dancing with him, chatting about this and that, but he could barely make out what she said, so he just nodded.  
  
After about an hour the music stopped and a tall, fashionable wizard walked up on stage. He had long, purple streaked black hair and three rows of earrings in his ear. Ron had never seen anyone like him, and wondered why he never saw wizards like this all the time.  
  
"We've got a real treat for you tonight. My good friends agreed to come and play for us tonight. And so without further ado THE WEIRD SISTERS!" The crowd cheered, the curtains came up on the stage and there they were. The Weird Sisters. Ron screamed with everyone at the top of his lungs.  
  
They started in on one of their popular rock songs "Brew Me a Lover" and the crowd went crazy, jumping up and down, singing along, and dancing even crazier than before. Ron let loose, throwing himself around. He accidentally knocked into a group of girls, he himself falling onto the floor. The girls surrounded him, squealing, and he grinned sheepishly.  
  
"Sorry, girls," his deep voice rumbled above the music. They picked him up, giggling and touching his hair and his face, holding onto his muscular arms and asking if he was okay, but slightly embarrassed, he went back to dancing with Olivia – this time not as violently. All too soon the song was over and The Weird Sisters started playing a slower song.  
  
Without even thinking Ron grabbed Olivia by the waist and hand and spun her around. Then, stopping her quickly, he brought her close and they started slow dancing. She giggled, ducking her head. Charlie caught Ron's gaze, dancing with the same girl himself, grinned and gave his younger brother a thumbs up. Ron couldn't help but grin from ear to ear. He felt all bubbly inside, and he couldn't wait to tell all his mates back at school. But right now, however, he was NOT Ron – 6th year at Hogwarts, but 21-year old Ronald, dancing with a woman. FINALLY his luck had changed!  
  
He danced with Olivia the rest of the evening. They chatted a bit about quidditch and other things. He found that his mind kept wandering. His thoughts kept bringing up images of another girl he knew who loved quidditch...she sat very close next to him on the couch, her sapphire eyes, glittering in the firelight. He sighed. Olivia was saying something and Charlie was motioning to him that it was time to go.  
  
"Ron, did you hear me? Sorry, I know the music is loud." He shook his head and smiled.  
  
"That's okay."  
  
"Well, did you want to go out sometime? You know, just hang out or something?" Ron froze. Was THAT what she had been talking about and he hadn't been paying attention? He scrambled for an answer. He had no idea how long this look was going to last. As much as he wanted to hang out with a gorgeous 21-year old woman, he knew he had to turn her down.  
  
"Actually, Olivia," he started, his mind churning as he went, "I'm really just visiting some cousins. I'm from out of town."  
  
"Well, where do you live?" she had a little pout on her pretty face, making Ron's knees wobble.  
  
"Uh... Scotland actually." Not exactly a lie.  
  
"Oh, well, that's not too far away," she look up at him hopefully. He smiled. This was harder than he thought.  
  
"Well, I've got school and everything. Hey, I might see you around some time when I visit again." Still not exactly a lie.  
  
"Well, okay." She looked so sad! "I'll see you around then." She gave him a little wave and walked away. Charlie came up to him, clapping him on the shoulder.  
  
"Would you look at you! Not a stud for a whole day, and you've already got the chic-magnet under control!" Ron smiled.  
  
"You didn't do so bad yourself." Charlie grinned. "Yeah, well.. Oh hey, there's Fred and George. We'd better be heading back." They met up, but this time used the club's fireplace to take the floo network back home. Fred and George kept jabbering on and on about a fabulous new deal they'd gotten and Ron just wanted to get to bed. He'd never danced so much in his whole life – or ever for that matter. The four of them tumbled into their kitchen just as the sun was peeking on the morning horizon. They were brushing the soot off their clothes when Ron looked over to the kitchen.  
  
"Uh-oh," Ron warned his brothers. A very tired, and a very angry Mrs. Weasley stood in her night robe, arms crossed over her chest, waiting for them. 


	7. Ronald the Handsome Devil

I know this guy that looks EXACTLY like an older Ron and yes he is pretty good looking...and he's really tall too. Anyway.... J.K. rocks because she made up the HP characters and I rock because I have fun with them in stories of my making.... But J.K. rocks more because she made them up... Sooooooooooooooooooooooooooo Now that that's cleared up on to: Chapter 7 – Ronald the Handsome Devil 

"You boys are in big trouble," were the first words out of their mother's mouth. She pointed to the stairs. "I don't appreciate your mischievous deceivings. For goodness sakes, Pirate Alley of all places! You're all grounded to your rooms for the day. Now, up to bed all of you. Yes, even you, Charlie." Fred and George opened their mouths.

"But we've got work today!"

"You can take the day off!" Mrs. Weasley's voice was starting to get a little unstable and her face was going the famous Weasley Red. The twins, recognizing these signs, shut their mouths and trudged upstairs. Ron went into his room, and Charlie, a little miffed at being grounded at his age, went up to be alone in Percy's old room.

Ron flopped onto his bed after shutting the door and cracking his bedroom window. A light dawn breeze wafted into his room and Ron felt himself dozing off.

When he awoke, his face was itching terribly. He rubbed his eyes, scratched his cheeks and was surprised to find them covered with hair. His heart did a little flip flop and he jumped up to look in the little cracked mirror above his chest of drawers. Ron laughed to see that he had a full beard. He didn't really like the look, but he was excited about it, nonetheless. He was a little curious about how it had grown so fast, but the thought escaped his mind when there was a knock at his door.

"Ronald, it's your mother." She opened the door and seeing her son, jumped a little. "Goodness, Ron. You gave me a start. I'm just not used to seeing you – Well, anyway I've brought you a little breakfast." She set the tray down nervously on the edge of his bed. "I've also just gotten an owl from Madam Pomphrey. She wants to know how you're doing and whether or not I feel it's safe to send you back to school yet or not." She sank down into a chair covered with clothes and hid her face in her hands. "Ronald, I don't know what to do! Look at you! How can I send you back to school looking like that?" Ron awkwardly patted his mother on the back.

"Mum, I feel fine. Fred and George seem to think it's something I've eaten. Maybe something got in my food by accident. It could have been Draco Malfoy for all I know. I swear, Mum he's out to get me." His mother huffed.

"No doubt it was Fred and George, and one of their ridiculous experiments!" Ron swallowed the sudden lump that appeared in his throat.

"Please, Mum. Just let me go back to school. I'll be fine. I feel much better. Madam Pomphrey was right. I was probably just a bit overwhelmed. I think I can handle things now." His mother eyed him, doubt written all over her face.

"I don't know, Ronald."

"_Please_, Mum! I want to go!" He couldn't believe he was pleading with his mother to let him go to school – back to homework and endless taunting from Draco and his cronies. _But not for long_, he thought smugly to himself. _They'll sing a different tune when they've seen me. _Mrs. Weasley heaved a huge sigh.

"All right, Ronald. All right. But your professors will be keeping a close eye on you." She shook a finger at him. "I don't want you to have another episode like before." Ron grinned.

"I won't, Mum. I promise."

Before he knew it, Ron was back on the train to Hogwarts, clean-shaven, with a crisp, freshly pressed white button-up shirt on. He'd had to borrow some of Charlie's clothes, being that his own shirts were getting rapidly too small. He had buttoned up one of his shirts, bent down to pick something up off the floor and a few buttons popped off from where his chest muscles had flexed. It was an exciting discovery, but not a good thing for his wardrobe.

Watching the blurred landscape in the window, butterflies flittered in his stomach. It was rather odd to be the only one on the train – well, besides the Treat Trolley Lady. She came by just then and offered him some sandwiches and candy. She gave him an odd look out of the corner of her eye. Ignoring it, and since Harry wasn't with him to order the lot of candy before him, he decided to be grown up and responsible and only ask for a sandwich and a chocolate frog.

Ron gazed out at the flashing scenery. He grinned through his sandwich. He couldn't WAIT to see the look on everyone's faces! He giggled, and quickly glanced around. Had he just giggled like a girl? He swallowed, cleared his throat, and pushed out a deep, resounding laugh. Hearing himself, he laughed again. What fun this was going to be!

Finishing his sandwich, he picked up the chocolate frog package and suddenly stopped. A sickening feeling filled him. Memories of the last time he ate a chocolate frog swirled in his mind. He swallowed. He was craving this chocolate, but was almost afraid... Trying not to think about it, he pulled the box open, grabbed the frog before it could jump away and shoved it in his mouth. He froze in fright remembering. _What if this was the chocolate frog that was to bring death??!!! That trolley lady sure had a suspicious look about her. _He nearly spat it out, but since it melted so deliciously in his mouth and he swallowed it without difficulty, he relaxed, shaking his head in disgust with himself. How could he let that old crony, Professor Trelawney, get to him?

Ron reached into the Chocolate Frog box and pulled out the collectible card. Ron frowned. Dumbledore again. The old wizard turned and looked right at him and Ron nearly dropped the card with shock. It looked as if the tiny eyes were staring right through him – as if they knew everything... Ron shivered and shoved the card in his pocket. Trying to forget about it, Ron settled back in his seat and slept fitfully for the rest of the trip.

Ron stepped out onto the platform of Hogsmede station, a lone horseless carriage waiting for him. He thought it odd that after a mental breakdown they were leaving him all to himself. Still, he got in and the carriage started with a jerk. Ron looked down at the thing clutched in his hand. Fred and George (no doubt feeling guilty) had let him borrow one of their Firebolts.

Now he stroked it absentmindedly. His stomach had butterflies again. Why was he so nervous? He laughed, suddenly remembering. He wasn't exactly going to be arriving the same way he left. What would everyone say? What would they think? Would Lydia still like him?

He looked at his reflection in the carriage window. He had taken great pains to shave right before the train arrived in Hogsmede. Even with the swaying of the train he had managed not to nick himself. It seemed his facial hair was getting a little out of control, but he'd keep a close eye on it. However, it was hardly the most important thing for his thoughts to be dwelling on at the moment.

Just then the carriage stopped and Ron trekked up to the castle, lugging the broomstick and his satchel filled with finished homework (his mum had insisted he get done before he went back). It was getting dark, the sky turning brilliant hues of the rainbow with the retreating sun leaving behind a cool midnight blue darkness.

Stomach topsy-turvy, Ron shoved open the door and stepped inside. The front hall was quiet, a rush of voices sounding from the great hall. It was obviously supper time. Ron took his satchel and Firebolt upstairs and freshened up by combing his hair and brushing his teeth. He caught his reflection in the mirror and grinned at himself. He was one handsome devil.

Most of his nervousness gone, Ron walked with a confidence he had never known as his old self. He was on top of the world and nothing was going to knock him down. He reached the open doors of the great hall, threw back his head, stuck out his chest, and strode inside.

The chatter instantly stopped as they watched this unfamiliar redhead move down the center of the room. More than one girl giggled, or blushed, eyeing the good looking, much older-looking guy, including Hermione who wondered _Where did _HE_ come from?_ Harry narrowed his eyes. The boy looked familiar... or was he a man? He looked about twenty and Harry wondered what he could be doing at Hogwarts. Ginny stared at Ron, unaware it was her brother, but very curious who he was because this guy was gorgeous! (The last owl she had gotten from her Mum about Ron was that he was doing better and relaxing well and that was three days ago.) Even Draco couldn't help being curious. He eyed Ron wondering if he was going to be new competition, especially since this guy had some years on him.

Ron sauntered right up to the head table and bowed a little to the Headmaster. Whispers broke out over the hall. Ron's deep, sexy voice echoed pleasantly through the room.

"Reporting back for classes, Headmaster Dumbledore, sir." Dumbledore looked down at Ron over his spectacles and was silent for a long moment. There was a twinkle in his eye and Ron seriously wondered if the man really did know...

"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore asked softly. "Do I know you?" Ron deflated a little. Of course he didn't recognize him. It was apparent no one did.

"It's me, Professor. Ronald Weasley."

Ginny jumped from her seat in shock. "RON??!!!" Her face was red from embarrassment. It's a good thing she hadn't leaned over to tell Lydia what a gorgeous guy her _BROTHER_ was!!!

Lydia herself was slightly flushed. Harry stared at the back of Ron's head. There was no way... Harry felt the blood drain from his face. That handsome guy was his friend Ron? What had happened to him? Draco had no words of insults for once. He was choking on something and Crabbe and Goyle were pounding his back to try and revive him. Hermione gasped, having a hard time breathing. Had she just thought Ron was extremely attractive?? She felt she was going to be sick.

Ron spun around to look at his sister. His cute chiseled face had a quizzical look on it.

"Ginny? Didn't Mum tell you?"

"No," she squeaked. "Tell me what?" Ron scanned the hundreds of staring eyes.

"Uh – I'll tell you later. In the meantime, I think I'm going to bed. Uh – goodnight all."

Ron walked out of the great hall at a great speed. He had imagined all sorts of reactions, but he hadn't quite imagined this. He glanced at Harry as he passed and the boy stared at Ron, unbelieving, and almost looking betrayed – Not the look of jealous rage Ron had secretly been hoping for.

Ron walked faster, trying to sort things out in his head. His sister had looked so upset. Hermione's face had been purple and Lydia – beautiful Lydia had looked embarrassed and refused to even look at him! Just then Ron heard a noise behind him. He looked back and could see his sister hot on his trail – along with half the girls from school! There were a few guys too, no doubt curious.

Suddenly panicking, Ron ran up the steps as fast as he could, raced down the hall and stopped, panting, in front of the painting of the Fat Lady.

"Pickle juice lollipops," he breathed.

"Why, who are you, sir?" the Fat Lady cooed flirtily. "I don't think I've ever seen a student as handsome or as er... old as you are. Are you sure you've come to the right place or did you just come to see me?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

"Just let me in!" he shouted, hearing the crowd come up the stairs.

The Fat Lady pouted. "Well, you don't have to be so rude." She swung open with a huffy swish.

Ron dove into the common room, pulled the painting shut behind him, and then dragged a sofa in front of the doorway. He dashed up to his room and slammed the door. Ron flopped down on his bed and covered his head with a pillow.

What a nightmare! He hadn't expected to be chased by a mob. He heard the shouting at the sofa and moaned. He really hadn't thought out how he was to explain all this. He thought everyone would just be impressed he was so darn good-looking and leave it at that. Ron removed the pillow from his face hearing someone at the door. His sister stood, face red and looking a mix between painfully hurt and slightly angry.

"Hi," he said, sitting up.

"Hi," Ginny whispered, chin trembling. Ron frowned.

"Oh, please, Ginny. Don't start crying. It'll be Mum all over again, and I don't need that right now."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she said, putting up a brave fight against the threatening tears.

Ron shrugged. "I was a little distracted with my new predicament."

"What happened?" she asked, walking further into the room. "It was Fred and George, wasn't it?" Ron shrugged again.

"Indirectly, I think. I actually ate one of their top-secret projects, and didn't tell them. I'm pretty sure they suspect though. They were treating me really nice the whole time I was home. Charlie says to tell you 'Hi' and he misses you, by the way."

Ginny smiled a little. "Charlie was home?"

Ron smiled back. "Yeah."

"Well, what did you eat?"

"A chocolate frog."

"And what happened?"

"I woke up three days later and looked like this. So, it wasn't on purpose or anything if that's what you or anyone else is thinking. I've actually been enjoying it, to tell you the truth." He stuck his chin out, prepared to defend his good looks, but he needn't have feared. Ginny grinned at him, watery eyes sparkling.

"I don't blame you. You look good."

"Thanks." The two were silent for a minute, the noise in the common room increasing.

"So what do I do now?" Ron wondered aloud. Ginny shrugged.

"You go out there and take it like a man. For goodness sakes, Ron, since when have you had so much attention? Isn't that what you were always whining about before? Did you know that a dozen girls kept asking me if you had a girlfriend?" Ron chuckled a bit.

"Really?" He sobered instantly. "How's Lydia?"

"She's fine. Confused, but fine. You might want to talk to her after the mobs have calmed down. In the mean time Hermione and Harry are outside. They want to talk to you." Ron stared at his sister.

"Harry wants to talk to me?"

"Yes. And Hermione."

"I thought Harry hated my guts." Ginny shook her head in disgust at her older brother.

"Don't be ridiculous. It was you that hated him, from what I remember. Should I let them come in?"

"Yeah, okay." Ron got up from his bed and straightened his clothes. Ginny went to fetch their friends. "Hey, Ginny?" he stopped her before she went out.

"Yeah?" she turned. Ron strode up to her on an impulse and embraced her. She stood stiffly, a little surprised. Ron had never been the huggy type of brother. But realizing he meant it, she hugged him back hard.

"Thanks, little sis. I'm sorry I didn't tell you first." She grinned up at him and stepping away she punched his arm.

"Ow!" she rubbed her knuckles, pouting. "Since when was there a muscle there?"

Ron grinned. "Shut up!"

Mwahahahahahahahaaaaaa...... If you want an update you must review!!!.... Well, I'll write it anyway, but it's so much more encouraging when you review! THANK YOU to all for your reviews so far! YOU ARE SO SPIFFY! I'll have another chapter up in a JIFFY! (hee hee...a rhyme. Special is me.)


	8. Quidditch: Weasley Style

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potty Potter yada yada yada 

Author's Note: Okay, I know! Chapter 7 was disgustingly short! I will try to update faster and with bigger chapters! rubs hands together and cackles You'll never suspect the ending!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!!!

Chapter 8 – Quidditch: Weasley Style

Ginny turned away grinning and left the room. Two seconds later Hermione and Harry walked in. They stood at the doorway looking at their shoes. Hermione would try to look Ron in the eye, but she could never quite manage it.

"So, uh, hi," Ron finally said, his deep voice rumbling about the room.

"Hi," his friends said in unison.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Hermione managed to say, forcing herself to look at Ron. She stared at him for a full two seconds and then dropped her eyes again, blushing. Harry finally got a hold of himself.

"Yeah, mate. Why not? We're your best friends aren't we?" He frowned at Ron, making him shift uncomfortably.

"Look, I'm sorry! I only ate a chocolate frog! I didn't expect it to turn out like this! Wouldn't you be in a state of shock if you woke up three days later and looked like this? As you know, even Ginny didn't find out. Mum kept it a secret apparently. She wasn't handling this whole thing very well."

"Well, I don't blame her!" Hermione burst out, and then shut her mouth, once again embarrassed. Ron narrowed his eyes a bit. What was wrong with Hermione? Why was she so weird and embarrassed?

Harry spoke up. "Well, can you at least explain to us everything from the beginning?" So Ron told them everything, from being on the train back home, to finding the chocolate frog, and even to dancing in the club.

"She was twenty-one years old?" Harry exclaimed. "Was she gorgeous?"

Ron grinned. "Oh, yeah. She totally wanted to go out with me, but I had to give her some story about how I was visiting relatives. I didn't know if these looks were going to wear off or not. Couldn't go risking anything like that and all."

Hermione, back to her old self, rolled her eyes. "Oh, please! Of _course_ your couldn't risk it," she said sarcastically. Ron went ahead, ignoring her, and explained the rest of his story up until the moment when he fled the great hall.

"So, you see," Ron finished up, "that despite what people say, I didn't do this on purpose, and I don't know how to change it, or when or if it will wear off."

Hermione put a hand on Ron's arm. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all that, Ron. You know we're always here for you."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Hermione's right. I'm sorry I was such a jerk. I've been a little preoccupied." Ron shrugged.

"It's all water under the bridge, mate. Don't worry about it." In reality he was feeling guilty about all the evil thoughts he'd had against Harry, and here was his friend being so decent to him. He felt quite ashamed, but he wasn't going to let that little secret out. "Oh, hey, Harry?" he clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder. "How about a game of quidditch later on tonight?"

Harry glanced at him nervously. "A-are you sure? To be honest, I don't want you to blow your head off at me again."

Ron laughed. "Oh, don't worry. I'm feeling much better. Not to mention... you haven't seen me play quidditch in this body." Ignoring Harry's surprised look he said, "Well, I guess I better go out and face the mob."

Hermione nodded. "We're right behind you."

Harry smiled. "That's right, mate." Ron grinned. He couldn't have asked for better friends.

Slowly, with determination in every step, Ron approached the door, opened it and strode out to the landing. He went down the stairs, followed by his friends, and stepped into the common room, which was filled with Gryffindors. They stared at him. He smiled nervously, but of course to all the girls in the room this was the most adorable thing they'd ever seen.

"Hey, Ron, you wanna go out sometime?" one girl spoke up from the crowd.

"Uh..." Ron hesitated, his eyes searching for Lydia. Actually, now, confronted by all these people, he felt a desperate need to talk to her. "Excuse me," he said, and pushed his way through the crowd. Every eye followed him as he searched. Girls giggled, fluttered their eyelashes, but he ignored them all. Where was she?

He finally found her at the back, her face drawn, eyelashes wet from tears. She glared at him, looking confused and hurt. "Lydia, I -"

"How could you?!" She burst out. "You didn't have to do anything to impress me! It's just disgusting, that's what it is! And you can just forget about trying to talk to me!" She turned away in a huff and swept up to her room leaving Ron open-mouthed.

"But it wasn't on purpose!" he called after her in vain. He hung his head. Nothing was turning out as he'd hoped. The next thing he knew, Harry had clapped his hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Ron. Go get your broom. Let's play some quidditch and forget about girls, huh?" Ron nodded solemnly. Ron turned to head up to his room. The crowd let him through, still staring.

"Come on!" Harry hollered. "Leave him alone already! Go study, or whatever!" There were moans of disappointment, but they more or less obeyed. When Ron came back downstairs with his Firebolt the room was less crowded. Even though dozens of eyes still followed him and he could hear people whispering, everyone pretty much left him alone. He followed Harry out of the common room. Harry turned to Ron, noticing the broom.

"Wow, Ron! You've got a Firebolt too? That's smashing! Now you'll really be able to keep up!" Ron grinned despite himself.

"I'm pretty sure it was a guilt offering from Fred and George. I'm going to enjoy it thoroughly. Besides, they've got a pair of Dragonblazes in the shed back home."

"The Dragonblaze? No way! That's the new broom that came out just last month isn't it?"

They chatted happily all the way down to the quidditch pitch. They mounted their brooms and shot into the sky at the same incredible speed. They flew in circles, chasing each other and laughing like a pair of little kids.

"Doesn't this feel awesome?!" Harry shouted.

"You have no idea!" Ron yelled in return and finally flew over to the end of the pitch. Harry launched the quaffle at Ron who blocked it with a fancy flip of the broom.

"Great one!" Harry yelled. "Try this one on for size!" And he smashed the quaffle with the tail of his broom. The quaffle sped at Ron's head who immediately dived his broom in a somersault and blocked the quaffle while pointing downward. It was a move called the Somersault Block, was very difficult to maneuver without falling off, and was usually only mastered by professional quidditch players. Harry sat astride his broom, his mouth open with shock.

"Ron!" he flew up to his friend who was upright again and grinning from ear to ear. "That was brilliant! Where did you learn that?"

Ron shrugged. "I didn't. I _told_ you Harry. In this body I can do _anything_." Harry nodded his head, thoughtful.

"I bet you couldn't do it again," he challenged, an evil smile on his face.

Ron huffed. "Try me, old man!"

Harry flew a ways back and once again launched the quaffle at Ron's head. Ron blocked it in the same manner, only he did two somersaults in a row before launching the quaffle directly back at Harry. It landed squarely in his stomach, knocking out his breath. Harry leaned over his broomstick, barely breathing.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, speeding to his friend. "Are you okay? I'm sorry, mate! I wasn't trying to -"

"It's okay," Harry gasped. "Ron... you – have – to – play at – Friday's game." He sat up a little taller, gradually recovering. "We're playing Slytherin. They won't know what hit 'em." He grinned at Ron and Ron breathed a sigh of relief. Harry was too kind not to blow his top like Ron himself had done before when Harry had hit him with the quaffle.

Ron nodded. "I can't wait! Does Angela know?"

Harry cleared his throat. "It doesn't matter. You're playing whether she likes it or not."

The two boys played for another hour until it was too dark to see. They trooped inside, their brooms slung over their shoulders, exhausted and laughing their heads off at stupid random things. When they entered the Gryffindor empty common room, (after first being once again accosted by the flirting Fat Lady Painting) all was quiet. Harry wished Ron a good night and headed up to bed, but Ron stood frozen, instantly sobered, staring up the girls' dormitory steps. Lydia consumed his mind. He had missed her at home, though he had had other things to mercifully distract him, but now there was nothing. His heart was bursting, wanting to explain to her everything, ask her how she felt about him, tell her how he felt –. He moved to the foot of the girls' stair staring up into the darkness.

Suddenly, without quite knowing what he was doing, he opened his mouth and he started to sing. A beautiful, crystal clear tenor voice filled the room and echoed up the stone stairwell. At first he made up the song, but then he started to sing 'Everything I Do' by Bryan Adams. He'd always made fun of that song, but now the words had meaning to him. He knew that he didn't know the girl very well, but what he did know, was that there was something special about her; something he wanted to get to know better.

He sang and sang. A door from the boys' side opened and someone shouted, "What do you think you're doing? Shut up! I've got a test tomorrow!" Ron ignored them and kept on singing.

Finally, Ginny, Hermione and Lydia's door opened and their three heads popped out. Ginny and Hermione tried to contain their giggles when they saw Ron, singing his heart out, and they pushed Lydia out into the stairwell. She stood awkwardly, blushing. But Ron's beautiful voice eventually won her over. She waved shyly at him, and said at the end of his song, "I'll talk to you tomorrow." And she went back inside, pushing the other two girls ahead of her. Ginny and Hermione put their heads back out and gave him a thumbs-up sign and a grin and went back into their room.

Ron thought his heart would burst. He did a little dance and then made his way up to his room. She talked to him! She was going to talk to him tomorrow! He changed quickly and plopped into bed, pulling the covers up to his chin. He sighed. She was so beautiful. The candlelight from the common room had made her eyes sparkle and her hair shine like a halo. He drifted off to sleep with a smile on his handsome, chiseled face.

Ron was awakened by Harry roughly shaking him.

"Ron! Ron! Wake up!" Harry sounded frightened. Ron struggled to open his eyes. Harry's face slowly came into focus, the sun shining from behind his friend's head from the open window, blinding him.

"What?" Ron groaned. He could definitely do with a couple more hours of sleep.

"Ron, what's the matter? Why do you look like that? Is it part of that thing you ate?" Harry's face was creased with worry. Ron sat up with difficulty, slightly alarmed, and wondering why he felt so _old_. His joints ached like nothing else and his back felt like it was on fire.

"What are you talking about?" He felt like he was replaying the scene back home all over again. He stumbled painfully out of bed to see Seamus and Neville standing in their pajamas staring at him, both looking a bit scared. He frowned and went over to the mirror hanging next to the door.

Ron stared in amazement at himself. He touched his face, now looking as though he was thirty years old, and his beard, a deep red like his hair, had grown back and was much longer than before. "Wow," he whispered. Harry was at his side.

"Are you supposed to do that? Age every other night or something?"

Ron shrugged. "I don't know. It's not like there was an explanation that went with the chocolate frog or anything." He tilted his head in thought. "I wonder where all this is going and where it'll end up?"

Harry frowned. "Something tells me I don't want to know. Regardless, I think you should show Madam Pomphrey."

"No way! If I do that she'll make me go home again, and I promised my mum I was going to be fine."

"Well, you don't look fine," Harry mumbled.

"Uh," Neville spoke up timidly, interrupting the tense mood, "We're going down to be late to breakfast if we don't hurry."

The boys changed quickly, and in the end Harry let Ron borrow his Invisibility Cloak to avoid attention on his way to the boys' lavatory. The three friends stood guard while Ron shaved and brushed his hair. After a quick stop back in their room, the four boys headed down to breakfast.

"So, the next quidditch game is on Friday?" Ron asked, trying to ease back into more normal conversation.

"Yeah," Harry replied. "That means we've only got a few more days to train. You shouldn't have a problem, though." Seamus and Neville, knowing how Ron played before, gave Harry doubtful looks.

"What do you mean he doesn't need to worry about it?" Seamus asked. "I think we all know how Ron plays, no offense or anything, mate."

"None taken," Ron said, suddenly cheerful. "Just come to practice tonight and you'll see for yourself." Seamus shrugged.

The boys entered the great hall. Ron was thrilled to see that Lydia had saved a space beside her for him. He slid in next to her.

"Hi," he said, making his voice go especially deep.

Lydia jumped and blushed. "Oh! Hi...uh." She stared at him for a moment before bursting out, "Is it just me or do you look older than you did last night?"

Ron chuckled, a bit nervously. "It's not just you. Yeah, see I wanted to explain all this to you last night. I ate one of my brothers' experiments and I woke up three days later looking kind of like this. The weird thing is, I seem to keep aging. What do you think? I look thirty don't I? I mean, I look good, but still thirty years old, right?"

Lydia eyed him. "Yes," she said slowly. "I would say that." She delicately sipped her glass of pumpkin juice.

Ron started to butter a piece of toast and was concentrating very hard on it. He might as well just go for it...

"Hey, Lydia, I know things have been a little weird between us, and I'm sure that this stuff with me doesn't help, but I really like you, and I think there's something really special about you. There's a Hogsmeade trip coming up and I was wondering if you'd like to go out sometime or something?" He held his breath and waited. His eyes darted up to across the table to see Hermione and Ginny grinning at him and nodding their enthusiastic approval. He managed a weak smile.

Lydia took a deep breath. "Well." Ron finally looked at her – straight into her beautiful face. "I really don't know what my mum and dad would think of me going out with a guy who looks like he's thirty years old and nearly twice my age." She looked into his eyes, her face deadly serious.

Ron's heart sped up a few beats, but in response he stuck his nose up in the air in mock haughtiness, and said, "I can't help it if my looks are ahead of their time." XXOXX

Lydia stared at him, wide-eyed and then suddenly burst out laughing. Hermione, Ginny and Harry joined in, having overheard the conversation. Ron gazed in amazement at his friends, a slight grin on his face. When Lydia finally gained back her voice, she was gasping. "Oh, Ron! That was so funny! You should have seen your face!" She giggled again with a little hiccup, wiping tears from his eyes. She had laughed at his joke! He could have kissed her right then, but he managed to restrain himself.

She placed a hand on his arm, and looked him in the eyes again (he _loved_ it when she did that!). "Ron, I like you too. I'd love to be friends with you, and maybe sometime in the future we could go out, but I'd like to get to know you better first." She looked down for a split second. "I am sorry about not hearing your story out first." Ron nodded.

"No worries." He grinned and shoved the toast into his mouth.

Things couldn't have been going better – _finally_!

His first classes back were weird at first. His professors kept eyeing him strangely, but never said a word. Ron was a made a little uncomfortable by this, but he did his best to pay attention. Even Snape kept silent, keeping his regular stony scowl on his face, and ignoring Ron completely. However, it was the students that were the worst. It seemed there were whispers and giggly glances that followed him everywhere. At first it irritated him, but eventually Ron gave in to the pleasure of being popular. Girls waved at him shyly, and even guys nodded at him as they passed – almost as if they respected him. Not everyone felt this way. Draco tried his best to keep the rumor alive that Ron had done this aging to himself on purpose and not just a few believed him. Despite all these things, everything was pretty much back to normal – as normal as it possibly could be at least.

During supper Angela, the Gryffindor quidditch captain, came up to Ron. "So Weasley, I hear you're pretty smashing as goal keeper these days." Ron glanced up at her from his steak and kidney pie. She continued. "I _did_ have someone already as goal keeper, but Potter wouldn't leave me alone about it. So, are you in?" Ron nodded, mouth full of delicious gooey pieness. (Author's Note: Just for the record I've never actually tasted steak and kidney pie. It sounds nasty if you ask me. If anyone HAS tried it let me know what you thought of it! Thanks!) "Well," said Angela, "I'll want to see you out there before the game then. Practice is tonight after supper. The game's in two days." She paused, a little uncertainly. "Are you sure you've improved since I saw you last?" She looked very doubtful.

Ron grinned and gave her a little wink. Her cheeks instantly turned crimson. Embarrassed, she spun and walked away.

At practice, Ron out-performed himself from the night before. Everyone on the team and the small crowd of people in the stands watching were slack-jawed and speechless. Harry grinned, proud of his friend. It was without a doubt that Ron was now one of the best, if not _the_ best player on the team.

Afterwards, Angela mumbled something about the game on Friday and then made a beeline for the castle. She had major planning to do with a player like this!

The next couple nights passed without any significant event. One downside to his good looks, however was that Ron was becoming a bit full of himself. His excellent goal keeping skills didn't help his growing ego. Hermione had taken to rolling her eyes every time a girl stopped to talk to Ron, and even Harry was losing patience with him, and perhaps feeling a bit touchy that he had lost a lot of the attention.

Despite all this, Friday's game arrived with great anticipation. Angela had tried to keep Ron's skills quiet, but of course it had leaked out. The Slytherins didn't pass up the chance to cast dirty looks in Ron's direction every time they passed, try to trip him up, or cast hexes over their shoulders at him, all of which were blocked by a watchful Hermione.

"You've really got to watch out for yourself, Ron," Hermione said after blocking a particular nasty hex. "I can't be here all the time to protect you."

Ron just shrugged. "I can't help it if they're jealous." Hermione frowned and walked the rest of the way to Transfiguration in silence.

Friday, after supper there was the usual mad rush to the quidditch fields. Ron, donned in new quidditch robes (having outgrown his old ones), stretched alone in a corner. The team chatted cheerfully, in high spirits. After seeing Ron defend the goals in practice they felt they didn't have anything to worry about.

After a quick pep talk Angela stalked at the head of her team out onto the pitch. The crowd cheered loudly. Ron smiled, breathing deeply. It was a clear, perfect evening for a game. The sun had a few hours on it yet, which meant that Harry would have an easier time of finding the snitch. After a word from Madam Hooch about fair play, Ron mounted his broom along with his team and flew up into the air to his goal posts.

The Slytherin team took a few warm-up turns around the pitch. When Draco passed the Gryffindor goals he shouted, "Better watch yourself, old man!"

Ron laughed deeply. "It's gonna be a shut out game, Malfoy! But don't worry! You can always go crying home to daddy and get him to buy you a new broom; not that it'll help your playing any!" Malfoy scowled and flew away, not used to stinging rebuttals from Ron Weasley.

The game began with a whistle from Madam Hooch and the quaffle was launched into the air. Harry and Draco promptly disappeared in search of the snitch. There was some squabbling at the far end of the pitch and then the players came rushing toward Ron. Slytherin had possession of the ball with Gryffindor hot on their trail. The Slytherin chaser launched the ball at one of the far, left hoops, but Ron was on top of it. With a fancy little flip, he smashed the quaffle, sending it into Angela's hands. With a roar from the crowd she was immediately off to the other end.

Back and forth the game went, with no sign of the snitch. Gryffindor scored three times against Slytherin, and Ron blocked goal after goal with spectacular dives and turns, twists and flips. The crowd was going crazy at the show.

Hermione, Ginny, and Lydia were breathless from screaming. "What do you think of him now?" Ginny shouted above the crowd to Lydia.

Lydia didn't say a word, but her eyes shone, her face turned pink, and she had this little smile on her face. Hermione and Ginny laughed, seeing her reaction, and patted her on the back.

Just then Draco appeared from no where on the far right of the Gryffindor goals, the bludger hurtling in his direction. He clobbered it with a borrowed bludger stick directly at Ron who almost caught it on the side of the head. He managed to dodge it just in time. Ron's face turned red with anger. He lunged at Draco who was laughing his head off. Ron stopped just short of Draco, flipped his broomstick around and slammed Draco right off his mount. Draco managed to grab his broom handle at the last possible second and hung on for dear life. The crowd gasped and Hermione, Ginny, and Lydia leapt to their feet in shock. Madam Hooch blew her whistle, which was barely audible above the shouts from the stands. The whistle went unheard.

Distracted from his goal posts, the Slytherin team, who had possession, made a beeline for the opening. Angela screamed at Ron, getting his attention. Ron sped to block the pass, reached to catch the flying quaffle, and missed by a fraction of an inch. It sailed through the hoop – the first goal for Slytherin. The shut out was gone. Ron pounded his fist on his broomstick.

"You're gonna get it, Malfoy!" Ron shouted. Draco was still struggling to keep his grip until one of his teammates went and helped him out. Five seconds later Harry caught the snitch and the game was over. Ron was mad. He had wanted that shut out and he'd failed. He flew down to the ground angry at himself, and doubly angry at Malfoy. He knew he could pound him to a pulp, and if Draco had meandered across his path right then he may very well have. Fortunately, Madam Hooch came storming up to him and stopped him in his wrath.

"What was that, Weasley?" Her green eyes flared. "That was a blatant foul and some of the most despicable behavior I have ever seen! Gryffindor may have won today, and I'm very tempted to default the game to Slytherin for that display, but the score stands as it is. In spite of all that, you, Mr. Ronald Weasley are banned from the next game. Do you understand me?" Ron scowled. _Banned?_ "I said, do you understand me?" Madam Hooch looked about ready to pound _him_ to a pulp.

"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled angrily. He watched her leave, dark thoughts consuming his mind.

to be continued....

Alright, lovelies!! It's that time in the story! REVIEW!!! YAY! Thank you so much for your reviews so far! The exciting conclusion is just around the corner! (And PLEASE tell your friends and anyone you know to read and review my story! I'd love to hear from them too! Showers you with fish and chips Thank you! hands you some salt and vinegar)

XXOXX This line is a borrowed movie quote from "Bugsy Malone". (It's a great movie! You should watch it!)


	9. The Chocolate Frog Brings DEATH

If Harry or Ron tell you I own them, I don't! Don't believe a word they say, because they're lying! Liars liars pants on fire!!!

Please note: if you still can not picture Ronald as ruggedly handsome, even as he ages, think of him as a red-haired Sean Connery. Does that help any? Heeheehee. Wait... did that just AGE me??? I'm 23 darn it! And I think Sean Connery is a good looking old guy! So there!

Chapter 9 – Death Becomes Thee

Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Lydia were waiting for him after he had gotten out of the showers and had changed. As soon as he stepped outside Hermione pounced on him.

"What in the world was that?" she cried. "You could have killed him! Not that I'm all that fond of Malfoy or anything, but for goodness sakes!"

"Did you see him belt that bludger at me? It nearly knocked off my head!" Ron burst out. "Anyway, just shut up about it, already, all right? I've already been given the lecture from Madam Hooch. She banned me from the next game. Happy?" Ron stalked towards the castle, his friends in tow.

Harry moaned. "You're banned from the next game?" he repeated. "Now what are we going to do?"

"That same thing you did before I became champion goal keeper," Ron replied sarcastically. His friends followed him in silence all the way up to the common room. Sounds of celebration issued from the Gryffindor tower, and when Ron entered the crowd burst out into loud cheers.

"Hooray, for Weasley! Hooray for Weasely!" they shouted. They surrounded him, patting him on the back, and passing him a mug of butterbeer. A grin slowly spread across his face, which was looking quite scruffy from a three o'clock shadow shading his cheeks. Girls screamed and giggled, and joggled for a place next to him on the couch where he had been deposited. He looked over to Lydia and beckoned for her to join him, but she shook her head.

"I've got studying to do. Congratulations on the game, Ron." She left with Hermione and Ginny. Ron, however, was quickly distracted with a girl trying to feed him some candy. Harry watched his friend with mounting disappointment. Seamus moved up next to Harry.

"Wasn't it you that caught the snitch and won the game?" he asked.

Harry shrugged his shoulders. "Whatever. I really don't care. I've got to work out that potions paper. See you around." Harry disappeared into the boys dormitory, still a little disturbed by Ron's behavior. What had happened to the old Ron? Gone the way of his sixteen-year old self, no doubt.

Ron didn't come up to bed until late. Harry pretended to be asleep, but he could hear Ron singing some Gryffindor fight song they had made up just an hour ago. Harry rolled over and shut his eyes. He heard Ron get into bed and eventually drift off to snoring slumber. As the minutes ticked by Harry's thoughts churned. What was happening to his friend? Were things ever going to be the same? He eventually fell asleep.

Days went by. Ron's grades suffered from the attention. He hardly had any time to study anymore, what with all the parties, and invitations to hang out - mainly because he accepted them all. His aging kept progressing, but to most of the students, that was the novelty of hanging out with Ron. You never knew how much older he was going to be.

As much as she wanted to get to know Ron better, Lydia stayed away. His ego was growing by leaps and bounds these days. Ron noticed Lydia avoiding him, but every time he had a chance to go and talk to her, someone else came up to him, wanting to chat and hang out.

A week and a half after the quidditch game Professor McGonnagal stopped him after class. When the last student had left the room, she looked at him, concern in her eyes.

"Yes, Professor, what is it?"

She sighed. "Mr. Weasley, I'm concerned about you."

He flashed a grin. "There's no need. I'm good! I feel great!" His face suddenly fell. "I didn't bomb that last quiz did I?"

McGonnagal smiled slightly. "No, you passed... barely. That's not what I'm talking about, though. I've noticed how you get up from your desk." She frowned slightly. "You looks as though you're in pain."

Ron stared at her. He had been feeling stiff after sitting in the desk for an hour, but he thought that was because he was playing more quidditch these days.

"There's no need to be concerned, Professor."

"Mr. Weasley, I would be concerned anytime a student started to look older than myself."

"I don't look that old!" he yelled. Realizing what he said, he blushed slightly. "I – I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't mean - "

She smiled again. "That's all right, Mr. Weasley. I know you didn't. I'm just curious as to why Madam Pomphrey hasn't been seeing to you. Does she even know what's been happening?"

Ron looked down. "No. I was afraid she'd send me home again."

"This is serious, Ronald. Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape and I have all discussed the matter. Your quickly advancing physical age is rather alarming. Have you ever thought how this might end?"

Ron shrugged. "Not really. I've rather been enjoying it. Although, someone said today that I looked older than their dad..." He frowned. Being older was cool, but certainly not looking as old as one of your peer's parents.

Professor McGonnagal sighed. "I'm going to be keeping a closer watch on you, Mr. Weasley. You're not familiar with what limitations are placed on an older body. So, be careful. I wouldn't suggest such extreme behavior during quidditch for example. You may very well hurt yourself."

"Yes, ma'am." Ron left the classroom in lower spirits than he'd been in for a long while.

Where was this all going? He probably should have openly confessed to Fred and George. Maybe then he would know more about that stupid chocolate frog.

As he walked to his next class his footsteps kept getting smaller and slower. Why did he feel so tired all of a sudden? He yawned widely. What was his next class, anyway? Oh, yeah, History. Ron walked right past the history classroom where he heard the Professor droning, and headed for the Gryffindor tower. He could definitely use a nap by now. Having made up his mind about skipping, Ron went up to his room, threw his book bag on the floor and flopped onto his bed, going instantly asleep.

Darkness surrounded him and in his dreams he was haunted by Lydia standing, staring at him with her big eyes and hair flowing. He tried running to her, but she never got any closer. Eventually, she turned and walked away. He shouted her name, tried chasing after her, but to no avail. She was gone. Gone forever. Suddenly, he saw something hopping towards him. Hop. Hop. Hop. It came closer and closer. It was a giant chocolate frog!! Ron ran for his life. He ran and ran and ran...

Ron moaned. Something was jabbing at his eyes. He tried moving, but as much as he tried his limbs remained like lead. It felt as if his skin was being dragged down. He moaned again. Gradually, whispered voices found his ears, fading in and out.

"..... two days. We should..... parents. Should ..... long ago"

He struggled to open his eyes, but the light was so bright. He moaned again. He felt people at his side.

"Ron," they called. "Ron, how do you feel? Ron?" Eventually, he managed a small slit and saw half a dozen shadowy people staring down at him. He slowly recognized Madam Pomphrey, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Lydia. Lydia. She looked so beautiful. He tried to smile, but he felt like his lips would crack.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his throat was so dry. "Where am I?" he finally rasped. "I need water." Madam Pomphrey brought a glass to his mouth and helped him to drink. The water went down cool and refreshing, quenching a deep, parching thirst. "Where am I?" he asked again.

"You're in the sick wing, dear," Madam Pomphrey said. "You should have come to me sooner, silly boy." Ron tried shaking his head, but strangely, even his neck hurt.

"What's wrong with me?" he asked, but she was already gone to get him some more water. "What's wrong with me?" he tried to shout, but it only came out as a bark.

"Oh, Ron," Ginny's face was strained and white. "Get him a mirror," she whispered. Hermione handed Ginny her pocket mirror and she held it up to Ron's face.

What he saw horrified him. The person that looked back at him was ancient – an old man. His face was creased and drooped with wrinkles, his eyes a watery blue. He had a beard, long and white – enough to challenge even Professor Dumbledore's. Ron wanted to cry. A small tear found its way out of his eye and slid down his pale, wrinkled cheek. Lydia, taking out her pocket handkerchief, tenderly dabbed it away. Ron reached up with a huge effort and grabbed her hand, holding it as tight as he could in his feeble grip. He should have known this would happen. Everything pointed to this. What else could possibly happen to someone that was speed aging? Was he going to die? His heart beat quickened. He couldn't die! He was only sixteen!

With a sudden urgency, he turned to Ginny, still holding on to Lydia's hand. "You must send for Fred and George. Now!"

"I just sent for Mum and Dad. Surely they can help better -"

"No!" he shouted. His chest constricted and he started coughing uncontrollably. When he was finally able to breathe he said, "I need Fred and George. I don't have much time. I can feel it." And he really did. He could feel his body's senses slipping away. Harry, Hermione, and Lydia looked at him, their faces full of pity for their friend. Ginny nodded and hurried out.

While she was gone Ron slipped in and out of consciousness, but always he could feel his hand in Lydia's. Sometimes he could feel her stroking it. At one point he woke up in a panic. He was afraid he had been left alone, but his friends were still there, Ginny having come back long ago. They were excused from classes to wait with their friend. With a sudden impulse he whispered,

"I've been a selfish jerk, haven't I?" His friends shook their heads, but he knew, of course they were lying. "I guess I can't handle popularity very well." He wheezed out a laugh. They smiled at him kindly. "I'm sorry. To all of you. Can you ever forgive me?" He needed them to forgive him. Desperately.

"Oh, of course, Ron!" they cried.

"I knew you'd come around eventually," Harry said, kindly.

"I hardly even noticed a difference," Hermione joked, making him smile.

Lydia patted his hand. "I knew there was the real you somewhere under all that." Ron nodded, tears leaking out of his eyes once more. He sighed, worn out from all the effort of talking and faded into sleep again.

When he awoke his parents were hovering around his bed. The moment they saw his eyes open, Mrs. Weasley burst into tears.

"Oh, my Ronald! My Ronald! Just look at you!" She began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Calm down, woman!" Mr. Weasley chided his wife. He looked down at his son and patted his white head.

"You're the spitting image of your grandfather, you know that? Not that that would make you feel any better." He smiled and leaned over a bit. "Fred and George will be here in a moment. They're out in the hall. They were more worried than I've ever seen them when they got the owl from Ginny." He patted Ron's head again. "You're going to be just fine. We're going to get this all sorted out, all right?" Ron managed a weak nod.

Suddenly, the twin's faces were above him. They did indeed look worried. "You don't look too chipper, mate," Fred said.

"You about ready to kick the bucket, little brother?" George asked, grinning nervously. Ginny smacked George's head. He winced, knowing he deserved it.

"I need to... tell... you... something," Ron whispered, each word an effort. The twins leaned over the bed to better hear him. "I... ate... your... chocolate... frog." There he had said it! Now they knew!

George shoved Fred from over the bed. "I told you that's what it was! But no! You couldn't remember what we put in that box!"

Fred frowned. "That's rotten luck, mate," he said, addressing Ron. "We're not quite sure what that frog will do." He looked up at his George. "Do you think we should tell him what was in it?" Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Lydia all leaned in to hear what Fred and George had to say.

"What in the world is coming out of his ears?" Mrs. Pomphrey cried out suddenly, shoving Weasleys aside.

"It's smoke!" Harry shouted.

"Uh, oh," George and Fred murmured in unison. They backed away nervously.

"What is it?" Mrs. Weasley cried shrilly. "What did you boys do?"

Ron was starting to feel hot all over. He closed his eyes and felt Lydia's hand slipping away from him. He tried to reach out to grab her fingers but his hand wouldn't cooperate. Meanwhile, his body kept getting hotter and hotter. He moaned, feeling himself slip away. What was wrong with him? Was this what dying was like?

The group around his bed backed away, fear on their faces. All of a sudden Ron's body burst into a leaping ball of flames! The room filled with shrieks and screams. Pandemonium was everywhere! Madam Pomphrey was running around in circles trying to find water. Lydia had fainted, and Fred and George stared wide-eyed and open mouth as their brother's body was consumed in fire. Hermione stood staring and mumbling to herself, trying to remember some spell she couldn't quite recall for extinguishing flames. Mrs. Weasley was screaming and crying hysterically while Mr. Weasley, tears pouring down his cheeks, tried to console his wife. Harry stood in shock, his face white as he watched his best friend burn. What could he do? His cheek itched. He could handle that. So, he itched his cheek.

All of a sudden the doors crashed open and Dumbledore strode inside, his robes billowing about him. "Quiet!" he yelled and there was instant silence except for the sound of the flames eating at Ronald Weasley. "Move away!" he commanded and they did so, parting for the wizard without a sound. Dumbledore stood at the side of the bed, his head tilted in thought. He gazed into the flames for a long time, the flames flashing in the reflection of the Dumbledore's spectacles. Finally, a small smile found its way to his lips and he turned to the group huddled together on the other side of the room, Lydia having been laid in one of the beds, still unconscious.

"Mr. Weasley will be with us shortly," he stated happily. They stared at the old wizard.

"What do you mean?" Mr. Weasley asked on everyone's behalf. "What are you talking about? My son is burning to death!"

"Well, yes, and no," Dumbledore replied. "Mr. Potter, I'm sure, already knows what this is all about." Harry stared. Him? Why should he know? Something tugged on the corner of his mind, but it wouldn't come to the surface.

By now the flames were receding. They watched as the fire slowly died down and at last, went out. Looking down at the bed, Dumbledore smiled widely, pulled up a blanket and then backed away.

The Weasleys and Harry ran to the bed and stopped in shock to see a perfectly whole, pale-faced, sixteen year old, red-headed Ronald Weasley. His eyes were shut, his clothes unfortunately burned off (which is why Dumbledore needed to pull up the blanket), but the most important thing of all was that his chest was moving!

"He's alive!" Mrs. Weasley screamed and started sobbing again. Everyone was crying in relief, even Harry, Fred and George, who had given into the tears. Lydia sat up from the bed, rubbing her head.

"What's going on?" she asked and seeing the group huddled around the non-burning bed, she jumped to her feet and flew to Ron. Seeing him alive, she fell to her knees and started smothering him in kisses, to everyone's surprise. (Well, not everyone's)

This is what Ron awoke to. At first he marveled that he was alive and felt better than he had ever in his life – ever. Then he wondered who other than his mother would smother him kisses. But when one was planted on his lips, and lingered there, his eyes snapped open. He saw Lydia, her eyelashes dripping with tears, and threw his arms around her neck, kissing her back. She gasped in shock, pulling away.

"Oh, Ron! You're alive! You're alive!" she cried. Instantly, he was surrounded by his family and friends: pinching him (that was his mother), patting his head, and squeezing his hand. He never felt so loved in his life. It was then that he realized that all he was wearing was a blanket and his face turned beet red.

"Uh, thank you," he said, acknowledging their gestures of caring, "But I need some clothes here!" Luckily, Dumbledore stood by with a set of pajamas from Madam Pomphrey. A screen was pulled around and Ron was given some privacy to dress. He felt himself, hardly daring to believe he was normal again. He felt an enormous amount of relief, like a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He felt so fresh and new.

When he emerged from the screen, he was once again surrounded. "Can I have a mirror?" he asked before he was smothered again. Instead of Hermione's pocket mirror, Madam Pomphrey, her eyes still moist, wheeled out a full-length mirror from her office.

Ron stood and looked at himself. There were no huge rippling muscles, but he was tall (was he taller than before?), thin, his muscles toned and lean from quidditch. His eyes weren't a brilliant, snapping, flirty sapphire, but they were clear and bright. Even his eyelashes were long and curled a bit. He didn't have facial hair, but his skin was smooth and clear with only a few freckles scattered across his nose. Ron grinned. He was back to his old boring self. And it felt amazing.

"I look good." He said and everyone laughed. It hadn't been a joke, but he grinned anyway. Lydia moved up next to him, stood on her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"I always thought so." He grinned and grabbed her around the waist, uncaring that everyone was there to see. He saw his mum out of the corner of his eye, glaring at Lydia with suspicion. "Give it a rest, Mum, I'm sixteen!" he cried out and kissed Lydia rather cheerfully. When they broke away Fred and George were conversing in frenzied whispers, a little apart from the rest of them.

"What's all this about?" Dumbledore approached them, a twinkle in his eye. They had always been two of his favorite students. He himself was a regular customer of their joke shop. Fred and George jumped apart from each other.

"We were just about to tell Ron what we put in that chocolate frog." Fred said.

"It was really rather innocent. Just one little ingredient..." George grinned feebly.

"It was still a prototype. We were just waiting for a test subject." Fred explained.

"We didn't expect it to be Ron, but..." George looked to his twin.

"Well, what was it?" Ron cried, frustrated about the beating around the bush business.

"Essence of Phoenix oil," they said in unison.

"Essence of what?" Ron yelled.

"I get it now!" Harry suddenly burst out. "Essence of Phoenix oil. That's why you burst into flames. It's just like I saw Fawkes, Professor Dumbledore's bird, do when he was old."

"Yes, of course!" Hermione butted in. "When phoenix birds die, they burst into flames and then are born again from their ashes. Apparently, it works differently on humans, and you were "born again" in the same age as when you took it in the first place!"

Ron turned to stare at his brothers. "And you didn't have that under lock and key? I could have really died!"

Fred and George laughed. "Like we said, we didn't think it would be you." George reminded him.

"On the other hand, you didn't think we left our room unlocked on accident, did you?" Fred asked.

"To be honest, we were thrilled when you were sent home," George added. "We'd been needing several of our experiments tested. All we needed was to have you wander in and..."

"We just didn't expect you to find that one." Fred finished sheepishly. The twins froze realizing their mother was standing right behind them.

"You boys are in serious trouble!" she roared and grabbed them by the ears.

"Ow! Ow!" they hollered. They were drug toward the door, but not before Mrs. Weasley gave Ron a crushing hug and a motherly kiss on the cheek. She patted Lydia on the arm and hauled her guilty sons from the room.

After saying goodbye to his family, and thanking Madam Pomphrey and Professor Dumbledore, Ron, Harry, Hermione, Ginny and Lydia walked outside into the glorious sunshine of a beautiful day. Ron paused, breathing deeply. He felt he had another chance at life. And life was good. It wasn't perfect. He didn't think Professor Snape would let him out of tomorrow's test on account of growing old and burning to death, but nevertheless. It felt good to be in his own body again and with people he cared about.

Taking a deep breath he turned and look around at his friends and sister. "What do you say to a game of quidditch? Girls against boys!"

"Yeah!" they shouted and dashed down to the quidditch pitch. They raided the school's broom shed, dragging out five ancient broomsticks and a beat-up quaffle and played to their hearts delight. Ron played goal-keeper, and missed every single goal by a mile. But he didn't care. He was in his own scrawny sixteen-year-old body, and he wouldn't change it for the world.

THE END

SOB! Tis the end, my friends! Now's the time to review! Tell me what you think! I want to hear it! Thank you for all your support and your reviews! And thank you for reading RONALD THE GREAT! Until next time, adieu!


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